#why are all the kiss drummers hyperactive | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lolamarlowe65 · 1 year

Text

𝓘𝓷 𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 //James Hetfield

“The house next door was just sold, i hope the new neighbour will be nice.”

part eight of ? part seven

disclaimers: smut, age gap (modern day james), slow burn, cursing, smoking, drinking, kissing, mentions of a size kink, mentions of death, big girls stuff nsfw

Wattpad link

࿓ 𓋪・𖧹 𖤐

Chapter 8 - Unexpected turn

I didn't sleep much. Just enough to get me through the day. My mind was occupied with James's picture. During the night I grabbed my phone a few times just to look at it. I am the only one in the world who has this picture. It feels like a part of him; a very public character; is only for me and me only. I turned around in my bed thinking about what could have been his reaction to my picture. I thought that what I sent was too much for a slight moment but given the lingering lust we have for each other, I doubt that. He makes me so alive and I won't regret at least trying. I think so much and feel so much and nothing has even happened between us. I can't help but imagine being with him, at his side, not only for lust but also for him.

I'm trying my best to look alive at work. Pamela is in a bad mood. She actually entered the pharmacy and threw some papers on the floor screaming "motherfucker". She never tells me anything about her personal life and considering her pissy mood I won't dare ask.

The day is slow, it's like it will never end! The store is closed because we had inventory to do, then we've got deliveries and now we're cleaning and stocking back the shelves. I feel like I am dragged into the hell of one of Pamela's manic episodes. But frankly, it occupies my mind.

"- Hey Ann, can you put the TV on?! Like a music channel or something?!" Pamela asks me.

"- Yeah for sure!" i answer.

There's a TV on one of the shelves behind the counter, it's mostly used for commercials and stuff. Those give you headaches all the time and that's why I hate this TV. Except on inventory day, we put it on for music. It goes from shitty music videos to the old music I am so fond of up to interviews and lives. Right now there's this loud guy who's talking about some new exclusive interview with Metallica coming up next. Wait? Metallica?! I turn the sound up to be able to hear clearly. This must be the interview James was in San Francisco for.

"- Hey guys how are y'all doing?" the journalist asks.

Oh god, it is. I can see James clearly, he is the same. He doesn't put up a character or anything. I mean to me he is already very aloof and strong minded so I guess you don't need to change a thing when you're the frontman of a metal band. The fact is, his sweet smile and good heart doesn't disappear either. He mixes them both so well and stays himself. His voice is calm and his words are well chosen, it reminds me of how much I love talking to him. It makes me so happy. I hope I will see him lost in his music one day. Seeing him play must say so many more things.

I recognise Kirk next to him, he looks and sounds the same as when I met him. And the two other guys must be Lars and Robert. Who is who tho? Who is the one that would look the most like an hyperactive drummer boy? I could check but I'll let it go so I can discover it when time comes. If it ever comes. James looks so busy. They are passionately talking about their new upcoming album and their tour next year. I don't know if I will see him as much as I do today and this thought makes me sad. All the people I have an attachment to all go away at some point. I shouldn't think about it. I don't even know what I exactly feel about James. I shake my head around trying to get back to my work and get those thoughts out of my head.

"- So last but not least. James this question might be too personal but we know things changed around in your personal life. We'd love to know how things are going?" the reporter asked James.

I turn my head around. What a shitty question. "Personal life". It means what it says for Christ's sake! Still, I'd love to hear the answer. Just morbid curiosity. From what Stacy told me, I finally remember he got a divorce not long ago. I don't why but this information came back to mind now. Then he moved out here but we never talked about it and as much as I'd love to know about it in a more intimate setting and not through a very public interview I can't stop but listening to the answer. He is very secretive about it so I can't stop thinking he doesn't know what he feels about all that. He has this whole life build for himself, what could he possibly find interesting about a young chick like me? I know he's not doing all that just for my ass, but then, why?

"- Well man, things were complicated at first but I think I'm good now. Let's say "things" took an unexpected turn." James smiles and laughs slightly.

"- Oh! Interesting and are we going to know about this "unexpected turn" soon?" the reporter asks back.

"- That I can't tell you, but I sure hope." James smiles.

I think I turned red. I cannot be what he is talking about. Nah I can't. I'm not the centre of the world, even more of his. I play with his necklace around my neck trying to get all this out of my head.

"- Haha anyway thank you guys for accepting this interview, I know y'all are pretty busy those times." the journalist says before turning his head to look at the camera. "Stay tuned on this channel tomorrow night. Metallica is playing live for charity and we are here to retransmit it! See y'all tomorrow!"

They're playing tomorrow night? I think I will watch the live. I just want to see how he looks while playing, how they look as a band. I need to see this.

"- Hey Ann, the fuck you doing?" i hear Pam coldly saying.

"- Yeah sorry Pam, coming right up." i answer.

She is right on this point, I just lost myself in my thoughts and the interview for a good amount of time. Let's go back to work. Time is so slow I don't know when I'll get out of here. I better work without a thought in my head to make it go faster.

I finally ended my shift and went to the hospital right away. Early in the morning the hospital called and asked my grandmother to come right away. Apparently, something in her analysis was not clear, they needed her to retake it. Their tone was pressed and I just hope it's nothing bad. Her health is declining those days and I was happy to know nothing was bad in her analysis but apparently my rest was short.

As I arrive I immediately go to my grandmother. They set her up in a room. Just for simple analysis? This definitely doesn't look good.

"- Are you okay grandma?" i ask, voice trembling.

I go and hug her tightly. I need her. I don't want anything bad happening to her. I just wouldn't be able to take it.

"- I am okay sweetheart. I promise." she says sweetly, caressing my head.

"- Don't make me a false promise. You know I couldn't take it." i answer, almost crying.

I can feel that something isn't right. I can feel my grandmother's anxiety through her body. I know she's trying to make me feel better. I know she's telling me to calm myself. But I can't. She's all I have left.

A doctor walks in the room and asks me to talk privately.

"- How is she doing?" i ask.

"- Well, I will be honest with you. Her arthritis is getting worse. There is a high chance she will not be able to walk anymore." he says unbothered, i almost started crying. "We want to keep her here on observation so we can figure out if we can operate on her and to make sure it doesn't spread to her other members." he continues.

"- Will she ever go home?" i ask.

"- Not constantly. It will be better for her if she stays here at the hospital for the time being. I gather some of her friends are also here, we will make sure she has contacts with them and that you can come see her everyday. But it will be better if she stays here."

"- You don't look very optimistic." i say.

"- I'm sorry miss." he answers, not sorry.

The doctor goes away after handing me the papers I need to sign for her admission. I won't do anything without asking my grandmother. My mom asked to get her out of the hospital in her last weeks. She knew she wouldn't make it and chose to stay by our side in the house. Without her asking me, I wouldn't have done anything. My grandma deserves this choice. The doctor was not very optimistic. She is probably going to have her last birthday this year. I am defeated. I want to stay optimistic, to say to myself she is gonna be okay and everything is gonna come back to normal, but I know it's not the case. Preparing myself for this eventuality actually helps me with dealing with it all. I go back to her room and sit next to her on her bed.

"- The doctor wants you to stay here until then." i say, crushed, putting my head on her shoulder.

"- It's okay sweetheart. I will stay here." she answers.

I let out a sob. Today should have been a good day. But it's not. My grandmother tries her best to move around to cup my face with her hands.

"- Ann. My beautiful Ann." she says, putting strands of my hair behind my ear. "You are a smart young woman. I know you understood this visit at the hospital will probably be my last. It's been a few months my health is not doing great and your mother knew it too. Your mother knew I would leave you not long after she did but I promise you sweetheart." her voice trembled. "I promise we will always be with you. Forever and ever. I know you will figure your life out. I know you will find someone who will love you as much as your mother and I do. It's gonna be hard, but I don't want to see my beautiful baby girl losing herself in false hope." she wipes a tear off my face. "I love you. I love you so much. Be happy." she says before finaling. "In the meantime, don't stay here all the time. Come see me everyday, but once you get out, live your life. I want to see you happy during my last moments."

I'm crying so much. I can't accept the truth of this. I just can't.

"- Grandma... I don't want to lose you. I love you, stay with me." i sob.

She puts her forehead against mine and we cry together. Even if she cries like me, she keeps on her sweet smile, this smile that would always reassure me. That would always cheer me up and make me go on. It still does now. Even if it's hard. I will respect her wishes. I will try to live out of here. I will come see her and change her mind with my stories for as long as she stays here. I don't know what will happen to me after she's gone. But I will try it. Just for my mom and grandma.

"- My mind is good but my body fails me. I will always exist, I will always be with you. Like your mom is in this beautiful heart of yours." my grandmother reassures me.

"- Did you sign the papers miss?" the doctor comes into the room to say.

"- Don't you see my granddaughter and I are having a discussion? What do you think your mother would think of this young man?!" my grandma interrupts him. "She will give them to you, now leave her be." she adds.

Her response made me laugh. Her mind is still there and in good health. But her body isn't. Like my mom. Knowing that she will keep her character intact until her last breath makes me feel more at peace with all this.

"- Sorry ma'am." the doctor says embarrassed before walking out.

"- Don't let them piss you off. Silly little doctors who think they're better than you because they got a diploma." she rolls her eyes. "Know what you want and get it." she says.

I'm still crying. My head's a mess but I gather myself to sign those papers. Before I get out to hand the papers my grandma calls for me.

"- Darling, get home. Have yourself a peaceful afternoon. Get me my stuff tomorrow will ya? The nurses are very nice, they will take care of me." my grandmother asks me.

"- Are you sure?" i answer.

"- Yes my love. Come here so I can give you a kiss."

I walk toward my grandmother. She gives me a kiss on my forehead and hugs me tightly. Before she lets me out she whispers in my ear.

"- Would you get Stacy, Pamela and James to come here tomorrow sweetheart? I want to give them a word." she asks.

Stacy and Pamela I get but James? What does she want to tell him? It makes James even more important to me knowing that my grandmother thinks so highly of him. Even if I don't know how to ask James I will try. I don't know how he is gonna react.

"- Okay. I will. I can't promise anything for James. He is busy. I'll have to catch him before then."

"- I am sure you will, love." she smiles, hinting something.

She let go of me and I got out of the room holding tears in the corner of my eyes. Now, each time I will get out of this room I will not be able to know if this is the last time I see her. But I need to keep my head high and do what she asked me. Before heading out, I give back the papers to the doctor. I know James is coming back soon, I told him I would see him today but I don't know if I actually will. Deep within myself, I hope I will. I want him to tell me everything's okay. I want to open this pain of mine to him.

When I get home I lay down on the couch. I don't want to cry so I look at the ceiling with empty eyes while smoking a cigarette. This house is empty without her. I think about my future. My grandmother has lived a full life. She went for her passion, she travelled all around the world and met my grandpa, she had a kid, which she always wanted to have but she never put her work and passion aside. Do I want to travel? How to live off of your passion? Do I want kids? I don't know. My mom would tell me to stop thinking so much, she would say that I will see what will happen when it will happen. She is right. But I'm sure of only one thing right now: I will keep on living to make these two women who made me who I am proud. I just hate the fact that I am so alone in this. Putting my hand on my collar bone to touch the necklace I open my messages, hoping to see one of James, but nothing. He has seen my message. It's written he saw it. I think I'm gonna break down.

I hear a knock on the door and go up slowly to open it.

"- Coming!" i open the door.

"- Hey Anna." James expresses calmly.

"- Ja... James." i say, surprised.

"- Are you okay?" he asks me right away.

I didn't even answer him. I just threw myself into his arms. I hold him tightly by the chest. Maybe it's too much and he will reject me but I didn't think about it, I just needed to do it. James doesn't move, he doesn't do anything. I shouldn't have done that. I try to go back and stop hugging him but James holds me back immediately into his arms. One of his hands is holding tightly by the waist and the other is in the back of my head. My head rests against his chest and I can hear his heart ringing. It goes fast but peacefully. I'm pretty sure his music is not as beautiful as this sound. I can feel him trying to move around. He doesn't let me go but he makes me understand to take a step back so he can close the door behind him. That's better. It's more intimate and makes me feel more at ease. He doesn't say anything and just holds me without forcing me to talk.

"- My grandma. She has to stay in the hospital. She probably doesn't have long anymore." i say, very softly.

"- Oh Anna." James sight. "Everything's gonna be okay." he holds me tighter.

James lets me out of his arms just to hold me lightly. Looking at me, he studies me, trying to get how I react.

"- You are the most courageous woman I know. And I'm sure your grandmother is the first to think it. I know you will be okay. I know she will be okay. Wherever she goes. It's gonna be hard. I know. But your mind is strong and you will keep her in your heart, always."

"- Thank you James." i say, sweetly.

"- Hey." he says, putting his hand on my cheek. "I know that saying those words won't heal you or make anything better but I'm saying them to you to tell you I'm here." he smiles. "I'm here for you. If you want it and whenever you need it."

I look up to him and my eyes dive into his. How happy I am to have him around. Somehow, it makes my grief more peaceful. Because I shared it with him. Because he is here for me. I had very few people around me when my mom died. Apart from my grandmother, Stacy and Pamela. They all helped me with their presence. Having them around made me more tranquil but having James around I feel protected. I didn't know I needed to feel protected until today, but I do. I want to feel like I have a shield that's not made with my survival instinct. A shield that's made of comfort and hope and mostly a strong shield that you wouldn't dare to try and break. James is that. He is comforting, he gives me hope and he's strong enough to kick anybody's ass. I'm pretty sure, at the very least, his mind is strong, and so is he. And as long as he allows me around him, I will see him as such. James isn't only that for me, well, not the only thing I want him to be but that's still too complicated to say. I love the way he is here for me. I don't know if I'm courageous but I will try.

"- Let me get you something to drink, Anna." he says, looking for the kitchen.

I draw a mellow smile, letting out a small laugh.

"- Here James." i show, walking toward it.

As we walk into the kitchen I go and get two glasses out of the cupboard. When I try to reach for the bottle in the fridge James stops me.

"- Let me do it. Sit down and ease your mind." he presses.

I nod and sit down at the table. How sweet.

"- My grandmother... she wants to see you tomorrow." i remember.

"- I'll be there." he answers immediately. "She will kick my ass if I don't come so I'll be there." he then jokes.

I love the way he jokes around to make me cheer up. And it works like a charm because it does make me laugh. She will kick his ass tho. Tomorrow night, James is supposed to play live and I know it. Now, I don't know too much about the organisation of a metal concert but I'm pretty sure his day will be quite busy. Yet he accepted right away without any condition. While I'm getting lost in my thoughts James pours me a drink and gives me the glass.

"- Thank you." i smile.

James leans himself against the kitchen counter in front of me and locks his gaze on me. The kitchen is not very big, having him here, like this, makes it feel even more tiny. Not in an anxious way at all, in a tensful way. It's like the walls are shrinking because the room wants us close. I'd love to nestle myself into his arms and stay here for hours. Feeling his heartbeat, reminding me that I have to keep on and make mine beat as peacefully as his. But I can't. I won't dare trying. The quick hug I had from him minutes ago was so intense I can barely hold on. He made me feel better just with his arms, he made me forget for a brief amount of time about this day. Made me forget about her leaving me. James observes me, probably wondering what I am blabbering about in my head.

"- I saw the interview." i interrupt my own head saying.

"- Did you?" he smiles.

"- The one you did yesterday in San Francisco. It was on this morning at the pharmacy."

"- And what did you think about it?" he answers, keeping on his smile.

"- Well, I still don't get who's Lars and who's Robert but I recognised Kirk. See, I'm becoming a fan. I'm getting there." i silently laugh.

"- You'd be the best fan we've ever had." he smirks. "But I'm already jealous of Kirk so retard the moment you get to know the two others." he jests.

His dumb joke let out of me an honest laugh. I'm also a hundred percent sure I'm burning red. I know he isn't actually jealous, and that would be weird if he was, trust me, but hinting a certain attachment to me by making these kinds of jokes makes me feel so confused.

"- I loved the way you talked. I love the way you don't change from the James I know. Even if I don't know you much yet. You are so sure of yourself and you show it by using a serene tone, never by bragging or thinking you are better than the ones around you. I love that about you." i say, calmly, James keeping his gaze locked on me. "I don't know much about your music but you sounded so passionate. I'm also glad you said things we're doing okay for you. Truly." i conclude.

I think again about "the unexpected turn" he talked about earlier. I'd loved to know what he was precisely talking about. My heart tells me I am, but my reason tells me that I'm giving myself delusions. But yet, there's the necklace, the photo I have of him, all of this that I can't forget about.

James puts his glass aside next to him and straightens up from the counter. I see him slowly walk towards me. This must be about four steps but it feels like twenty. Sitting on my chair, he approaches me and puts two of his fingers under my chin.

His hand.

He lifts my head up so I can look at him. James is already so tall, looking at him from this perspective makes me feel so weak. I don't have a size kink. I swear. And I'm not even "petite"! He is just so much. So much of him. So much that I want. My hand immediately goes to his necklace around my neck. Our eyes connecting on each other's gaze.

"- You know that you are my "unexpected turn"? Right?" James states.

I take a heavy breath. I think my heart skipped a beat. James looks entranced by me. His eyes glimmer a different light. Something changed in the air. Something that feels like the whiff of his breath in my neck I felt the other day. My heart was right. He was talking about me. He sees me in his future. When he said he would be here for me he knew he wanted my heart. His determination is obvious. I can see it in his eyes. But I can see he is scared. I can see he doesn't know how I will react. I get to see a side of him that I would have never guessed about the first time I saw him. He is so beautiful.

So fucking beautiful.

Suddenly my head moves up slightly, desperately trying to reach him. James's head does move toward mine too and I feel his hand slide slowly in the back of my head, in between my hair, helping me to stand up, pulling me toward him. In between paths, him and I trying to reach each other our lips connect. He kisses my lips passionately, holding onto me like he is afraid I'd disappear. But I'm not going anywhere, I have never felt something like this. Lust, romance, whatever. Time stopped at the moment we connected. My hand goes in the back of his neck, trying to reassure him. Telling him, "I'm not going anywhere." His body straightens up and moves me so I can stand up. At this moment, our lips disconnect so we can take a breath, but those seconds must have felt like hours because we kissed again as soon as we took one breath like we are starving without each other. James pushes me against the counter behind me and I push his head even closer to me with my hand in the back of his head as a way of telling him to deepen the kiss. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I let his tongue dance with mine. Grabbing my waist he pushes me back even further and I hear him grunt before he sits me down on the counter. One of his hands stays on my waist and the other goes in the back of my neck.

This is the best thing I've ever felt. I wish time would stop and we could stay like this forever.

"- Last night." James says, in between kisses and out of breath. "I thought I was going crazy when I saw your picture." he kisses me deeply. "I understood. I knew I had to come to you. All the reasons I am so entranced by you I could see in this picture. I had to see you." he kisses me again. "I had to tell you. I wouldn't even have dared to think about kissing you but here I am."

"- James..." i whisper.

"- Here I was with my silly picture, thinking I would make you smile, thinking I could make your eyes bliss, before you sent me this and made all my effort go to waste." he pauses and smiles. "You are so talented and so goddamn beautiful." he adds, our eyes locked on each other's.

My mouth opens slightly to express how bewildered I am. "You are so talented and so goddamn beautiful." Nobody has ever told me that. Never. Even more with such passion and honesty. I am speechless. I want him. Everything. I don't even wait before throwing myself in his arms again, kissing and hugging him, giving him the opportunity of giving me a bear hug, that he takes instantly. Such a sudden act. An act that I wanted to do for longer than you can think. Just feeling his lips on mine is better than anything I have done thinking about him.

"- James... I... You..." i try to gather my words.

"- Shhh... It's all about you right now." James answer.

I don't know how to tell him everything. Everything he makes me feel. Everything I want him to do to me and everything I want him to be. He understands me so well and his answers make me even weaker than I already am. I smile and he kisses me again, my hands starting to play with the end of his shirt. I need him so much. I can hear him grunt as he slowly slides his tattooed hand under mine, grabbing my waist roughly, playing with my skin.

"- The neck-" i say, interrupted by the phone in my house that starts to ring. fuck it. "Fuck it..." i whisper.

James stopped kissing me as the phone started to chime but I take his head back to crash him back onto my lips. His hand is still playing with this little parcel of my skin, initiating an indescribable fire into me. He's my fuel, my fire, my desire.

The phone stops to ring but bips, letting the person on the other side of the line leave a message.

"- Hey Ann... It's Stacy... I know you've had a shitty day but I really need you there." i can hear her hesitate. "Well... something happened. I tried your phone but as always, you leave it on silent. If you hear this, just know I left my door unlocked, see you soon!" Stacy concludes.

Her tone is sad and struggling and I feel guilty not hearing my phone ringing. If she had to call on the house phone then she was really desperate. I can feel James's hand let go of my waist to put a messy strand of my hair behind my ear.

"- Go." James says. "She needs you."

"- Are you sure?" i ask.

"- What do you think? Your friend needs you. I don't even have a say in this." he smiles, kissing my lips quickly.

James is such a sweetheart. I don't want this moment to end. But my best friend needs me and I will be here for her. Smiling, I can see him trying to gather his words.

"- Listen Anna. I want to do things right. I want you, but I don't want you to think I just want to play with you." he suspends, studying my expressions. "Let me take you on a date. One date."

"- Yes James. Show me everything about you. Take me anywhere." i answer, my arms wrapped around his neck.

"- Then come to my gig tomorrow night, I want you to see me play. Then the rest of the evening is for you, all for you." he pauses. "I will never accept you not having what you deserve." he concludes, one arm around my waist, one hand playing with my hair. "You deserve a date, you deserve something that's done right."

I nod. Delighted by this news. My whole life is changing and at least I'm glad James is a part of my new world. I want to see him play, I want to have a nice evening with him. I want to know him more deeply. I love the way he talks to me, I can't believe he thinks so highly of me, I can't believe anybody would ever treat me as good as he does in my life. Just for that, I don't wanna let it go. I was afraid my age would be a problem for him, I was afraid it would just be me. But he takes it seriously. And if I didn't have enough proof I can just look at the fire in his eyes, I can just feel his heartbeat. His body and mind work together to show me how honest he is. My eyes glimmering, happy the universe sent him to me in this weird period of my life. "Thank you mom" I say to myself chuckling.

"- Let me drive you at Stacy's." James interrupts, still playing with my hair.

I nod, I don't feel like driving right now. As I'll probably stay over at Stacy's tonight and go to the hospital with her tomorrow, using my car is useless anyway. Having more time with James isn't. Going down the counter I follow James to his car.

The ride is peaceful because I spend it looking at his expressions while he drives and I give him the instructions as to where Stacy lives. When he notices it he lets out a laugh and gives me quick looks trying to stay focused on the road. As we arrive, I thank him and get out of the car. Before I could go, he gets out of the car and asks me to come here. As I get to him, I feel a breeze and hold my arms together. I left home without taking anything other than my bag and I forgot my jacket, even if the weather is hot, the breeze in the evening is still cold. I'll take one of Stacy's for tomorrow, it's okay.

"- Here, take that." James says, putting his leather jacket on my shoulders.

"- I can take one of Stacy's, it's okay James." i smile.

"- I don't care." he teasingly smiles. "You look so good when you wear my things." he adds, looking at the necklace.

"- Okay." i answer, burning red.

His smell is impregnated on his jacket. I wish I could tease him back by giving him something with my smell on. Giving him my panties maybe is too much now but I would if I could easily take them out. I laugh at my dirty thoughts and I kiss his cheek as a thank you. Before I go James takes my wrist in his hand. This hand of course.

"- Send me a text before you go to sleep, just so I know you are okay and safe because if you don't, I'll come rescue you."

"- Don't tempt me, Mr. Hetfield." i conclude, walking towards Stacy's place.

I can't believe how well he treats me. I can't believe he made me actually feel good on a shitty day like this. I can't believe I will get to have that again tomorrow. I can't believe James is real.

࿓ 𓋪・𖧹 𖤐

A/N : i’m sorry it took me so long to write it, i got sick and all. hope you enjoy it because i loves writing it <33 just imagine living that with james aargh

#james hetfield #james hetfield smut #james hetfield fanfiction #metallica #metallica smut #metallica fanfiction #lola’s delusions

82 notes · View notes

yesloverboy · 5 years

Text

Neighborly (mgk!Tommy Lee x Reader) Part 6

SUMMARY: After a full day of trying to win your affections back, you finally agree to let Tommy take you on a date. With Tommy planning the whole thing, you can’t help but feel a little nervous. Can Tommy actually convince you he’s in love, or is it all just for show?

word count: 6,556

[Warnings: swearing, body image, little bit of angst, a lot of cavity-inducing fluff, language, drug and alcohol mention/usage.]

NOTE: It’s finally here! As an apology for such a long wait, this chapter is extra long and should have plenty of first date fluff to get you by until Part 7. If y’all have any ideas for shenanigans that reader and the boys can get into, please share them with me! I have a tentative plan for the next portion (which you all can probably guess hehehe), but some inspo would be great appreciated. Love you crazy kids!

P.S. feedback is greatly appreciated, so please let me know what you think!

tags: @kwyloz, @scarecrowmax, @lavendersoundbarrier, @stevenandsam, @totallynotkaibiased, @rogertaylur, @fatheadtheroger, @secretly-a-groupie, @kickstart-myheart-sixx, @abbysdogcollar, @dirtysixxers, @black-tights-black-heart, @valentines-in-london, @colsonbakersnoseringmain, @hxllywood-whxre, @ccidk, @sharon6713, @myshakespeareandarling, @moon-beame, @carmineharry, @2dead2function, @lauravic, @amusicalprostituttee, @lululovesgwtw

permanent tags: @colsonbakersnoseringmain, @kingbouji3, @lululovesgwtw

When tomorrow finally rolls around, you have a difficult time taming the butterflies fluttering around inside your stomach. Tommy will be coming to pick you up any minute now, and you still had no idea what to wear or what to expect.

In all honesty, you can’t remember the last time you went on a proper date. Dates were all about impressing people and getting them to like you, but everything about yours and Tommy’s budding relationship seemed to be working backwards.

Rushing around the apartment, you leave a trail of abandoned garments and makeup in your wake. No part of you is willing to admit how much you actually like Tommy, but your frantic movements tell a different story. Even though you have a way of making Tommy nervous, too, nothing seems to compare to the way he makes you squirm with excitement and self-doubt. You have to do something to even the playing field.

Digging through the bottom drawer of your dresser, you come across an obnoxious, leopard print bikini that you bought on dare back home. It’s definitely more revealing than anything you’d normally wear, but something tells you it would do just the trick. You bite your lip and scan the room nervously, suddenly afraid the walls might have eyes. Seeing Tommy’s jacket lingering in a heap on the floor, an idea suddenly pops into your head.

Against your comfortability, you decide to go for the tiny bikini, knowing full well that Tommy is going to be tripping all over himself when he sees you. Feeling adventurous, you decide to wear it with just a pair of cut-off shorts and slip Tommy’s baggy, leather jacket over your shoulders. For good luck, you apply a layer of bright red lipstick. The taste reminds you of the night Tommy kissed you at your dining table. Perfect.

Sure, it might be hot in L.A.– but you are determined to look even hotter.

You’re completely engrossed in teasing your hair when Tommy knocks at the door. Before you can even put down the comb and invite him in, he’s already halfway across the threshold. You roll your eyes, wondering how in the hell he got so comfortable barging in.

Oh, right– because you let him.

“Hey, Y/N! Ready to get out of here?”

Running your hands through your hair, you step out of your room to meet Tommy. He turns his head at the sound of your footsteps, jaw nearly falling off the hinges when he catches sight of you. You wait for him to say something but he just stares, blue eyes wide and unblinking.

“Yeah, uh, let me just grab my sunglasses,” you say awkwardly, pushing past him to retrieve them from the dining table. As you move, you can practically feel Tommy’s stunned gaze boring into your back. A wry smile tugs at your lips.

You turn to look at him, “What’s the matter, drummer boy? Do I have something on my face?”

A blush immediately colors his cheeks as he averts his eyes in embarrassment, trying to focus on anything in the room that isn’t you. “No! I, uh, you just– you just look really good is all.”

“I know,” you wink, nudging your shoulder against his arm playfully, “and you’re definitely not getting this jacket back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of asking,” he grins.

Instinctively, you go to grab your truck keys off their hook by the door, figuring it would just be easier if you drove. Tommy catches your wrist before you can reach them and shakes his head.

“Nah, baby, that won’t be necessary,” Tommy digs in the pocket of his denim shorts and pulls out a set of car keys, dangling them in front of your face triumphantly. “Mick’s working on some songs with Nikki today so he lent me his car.”

“Mick lent you his car?”

Tommy just shrugs, “Why is it so hard to believe? He’s my friend...uh, I think.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips, and jump up to ruffle the drummer’s hair playfully. He tries to push you away and fails, instead grabbing you by the waist to drag you over the threshold and out of the door.

“Hand ‘em over, Lee. I’m still driving,” you laugh, not wanting to let him off the hook that easily.

Tommy looks at you defiantly, “Race you for them.”

Without any hesitation, you shove past Tommy and head straight for the car. The two of you bound down the stairs, giggling breathlessly in a race to see who can get there first. Tommy wins, of course. His long limbs allow him to go at least twice as fast as you’re able– but you don’t mind. The only thing that matters is that he doesn’t just let you win. You don’t want him to. Not now, and not ever.

When you finally catch up to Tommy, you find yourself too dizzy and giddy with laughter to even pretend to be upset that he’d beaten you.

“Ready to hit the bricks, baby girl?” Tommy grins, ducking into the driver’s side of Mick’s beat up car.

“I’m ready when you are, drummer boy,” you say. Unlike your truck, you’re thankful to find that Mick’s car has working air conditioning. However, that doesn’t stop you old habit of fastening your seatbelt and cranking down the passenger side window, inevitably letting in the warm summer air.

The California sunshine bathes your legs in rays of golden heat, drawing you attention back to the fact that Tommy still hasn’t told you where he’s taking you. While your bathing suit and the summer sun should be a dead giveaway– you decide not to spoil all the fun.

“So Tommy,” you smile, poking his arm gently as he pulls out of the drive, “where exactly is this mystery date, hmmm?”

“Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to the beach dude!” Tommy accelerates out of the parking lot and onto the open road, tires screaming into a cloud of dust behind the car. There’s not a single doubt in your mind that Mick will recognize the tire marks streaking the pavement later. You snicker as Tommy tries to conceal the cringe on his face.

“Oooh,” you taunt, “someone’s going to be in trouble.”

“Am not,” Tommy says defensively. He slides his sunglasses down over his eyes, allowing his mop of wavy hair to fall in his face once again. A single, chain earring catches the light in the midst of Tommy’s hair, the cross charm at the end glittering and sparkling as it moves in the breeze.

“Are, too.”

As you and Tommy cruise through the streets of Los Angeles, you can’t help but become mesmerized by him once again. He grips the steering wheel with a single hand, the muscles of his long arms rippling beneath his tanned skin. Everything about Tommy radiates warmth, and the longer you exist in his natural glow, the more you feel like you feel like you’re dreaming.

Eventually the silence is too much for Tommy’s hyperactive brain and he turns on the radio, eyes briefly meeting yours over the top of his sunglasses.

“What are you looking at, pretty girl?” he smirks.

You blush at the pet name, suddenly feeling as though you never want to hear another voice call you pretty again if it isn’t his. More than anything, you want to come back with something clever. Something that won’t let Tommy know that he’s becoming a weak point for you.

“You,” you reply, the single word falling from your lips before you can stop yourself.

So much for subtlety.

A broad smile breaks across Tommy’s face, and for a moment it seems that he might be blushing even more than you are. With his free hand, he reaches into your lap and weaves his fingers through yours. His thumb rubs small circles over your own, making the physical connection between the two of you feel as if it were meant to happen all along. Although Tommy’s hands are calloused from years of playing the drums, his touch is soft and gentle.

“Just you wait,” Tommy says smugly, eyes fixed on the palm-lined streets in front of him, “I’ll make you mine before you know it.”

...

When you and Tommy finally arrive at the beach, you’re surprised to find that he has pretty much planned everything down to the last detail. Nestled in the back of Mick’s trunk is a beach blanket, towels, a cooler, and a large umbrella. Try as you may to help Tommy unload the car, he only allows you to carry the beach towels– and even that had been a fight.

The two of you eventually stake out a spot off the beaten path, far away from the droves of obnoxious tourists and screaming children. As you get to work laying out the towel and staking the umbrella, you can’t help but become a little distracted by how beautiful of a day it is. The sky is bluer than you’ve ever seen it, and the crash of the waves in the distance is something you’ve been longing to hear since you planned your move to California.

As soon as you’re content with yours and Tommy’s set up, you shed your shorts and leather jacket, allowing them to fall in a heap on the corner of the blanket. You hum and stretch as your skin soaks in the glorious rays of sunshine, reveling in the salty air around you. The sound of Tommy shuffling over with the cooler breaks your relaxed trance and you turn to look at him.

Tommy’s staring at you again, eyes wide and mouth agape. You’re confused at first, but soon recall your choice to wear the tiniest bikini you own. For the first time since you met Tommy, you don’t blush. You’ve got him right where you want him.

“Beautiful,” he sighs, appearing as though even the slightest breeze would knock him to the ground. He has the same dreamy expression on his face now as he did the night he first uttered the word to you. Then, he had been pumped full of alcohol and soaked in blood– but now, he seems more sincere than ever.

“The weather?” you ask, feigning innocence, “It is beautiful isn’t it?”

“Uh–yeah. Yeah! The weather, it is, um, beautiful,” Tommy stammers, “the weather, the day–all of it. Sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“Thank you,” you interrupt, giving him another small peck on the cheek. If you aren’t careful, pretty soon giving Tommy little kisses here and there will become a force of habit.

Fuck it, you think, why the hell shouldn’t it?

Leaving the drummer speechless, you pull your sunglasses down over your eyes and recline lazily on the blanket. Eventually, Tommy snaps out of his trance and begins noisily digging around through the cooler again.

“What’s in there?” you ask, eyebrow raised.

Tommy reaches in and pulls out a beer. Holding it by the bottle’s neck he points it in your direction, gesturing for you to take it. “Beer! Oh and some snacks, too.”

You accept Tommy’s offering and take a look inside the cooler for yourself. Among the ice and beer bottles, a pastel pink tupperware container sticks out to you. Of all the things you had seen in the Crüe apartment, a cutesy set of tupperware surely wasn’t on the list.

“ And this?” You look over at Tommy for an answer, but he’s busy prying off the beer bottle cap with his teeth.

The cap tears off the bottle with a loud pop as Tommy casually spits its remains onto the sand by your feet. “Oh that?” Tommy replies, smiling sheepishly, “actually my mom made that.”

“Your mom?” you ask, feeling your heart melt ever so slightly, “When did you see your mom?”

“Yesterday,” Tommy smiles sweetly, his eyes drifting off in the direction of the ocean waves lapping at the shore. “The moment I thought you might give me another chance after–well, you know–I had to ask her how to fix it.”

Even though thinking back on that night still leaves a bad taste in your mouth, you can feel your heart swell at the thought that Tommy would ask his family about how to make it all better. Maybe you are important to him after all.

“Does your family live around here?”

“Kinda. They live out in the ‘burbs, which can feel like forever away,” Tommy replies, “Remember when I called you? I was actually waiting for my ride back to the city.”

Deciding not to pry anymore, you pick up the container and try to see if you can get a read on what might be in it. “You still haven’t answered my question, drummer boy,” you smile, “What’s inside?”

Tommy gently pulls it from your grasp and pops open the lid. Inside are two triangle shaped pastries, both of which are golden brown and glistening with a layer of honey.

“It’s baklava,” Tommy grins, “My mom’s from Greece so she thinks that food can fix everything.”

“You’ll have to thank her for me,” you say, feeling pleasantly overwhelmed by the kind gesture of a woman you hadn’t even met. Tommy’s constant displays of affection and generosity didn’t seem to be as much of a mystery now.

Tommy tips his beer back and takes a swig. “Don’t worry,” he says, “I’m sure you’ll get to tell her yourself.”

As the summer sun starts to slowly dip into the horizon, you and Tommy decide to pack up the car and take a walk along the beach. A comfortable silence sits between the two of you as you walk, your hands almost close enough to touch. After a day of sunbathing and chatting, it’s nice to just exist among each other. The more time you spend around Tommy, the more you find yourself feeling completely at home when he’s around.

While Tommy has a lot of energy for partying and playing music, he also uses that energy to listen to you talk about the things you love. He’s the only person you’ve ever met that actually listens to what you’re saying, rather than just waiting for their turn to talk. It’s almost as if he wants to study everything about you and commit it to memory. Even now, with conversation being replaced by the lapping of the waves, you could feel Tommy’s eyes on you as you shift forward through the sand.

As the beach becomes bathed in a dreamy purple and orange glow, the pier that you and Tommy have been meandering towards starts to glitter with artificial light. The closer you get, sounds of laughter and carousel music can be heard over the shriek of the gulls circling overhead. A ferris wheel spins lazily against the sky, and your stomach flutters at the thought of being up so high. It’s not the fear of heights that makes you uneasy, it’s the fear of falling.

“What’s going on over there?” you ask, turning to Tommy with childlike wonder sparkling in your eyes.

“That’s the pier, dude! It’s got all kinds of games and rides– wanna go?” Tommy flashes you a boyish grin, and holds out his hand.

When you look at Tommy, it’s as if time stops and the only thing in motion is the both of you. Nothing else matters when you take a dip into his ocean eyes, and you find yourself wondering:

Is this love?

The thought tears through all the layers of caution tape you had been stringing up in your mind. After all of the weird things Tommy had brought crashing into your life, you were supposed to be guarding your heart– but all you find yourself wanting to do is hand it over to the boy in front of you. Even if it bleeds.

Taking Tommy’s hand, you allow a goofy smile to take over your face. While a single date doesn’t mean that you and Tommy will be together forever, for just a minute you want to let yourself believe that it’s possible. All you ever wanted in life was to be in control, and somehow Tommy makes you forget that tomorrow is even something worth worrying about. Tommy brings out the carefree side of you, and you wouldn’t mind if she came out to play more often. Before you know it, you’re smiling like you won the lottery.

With a newfound energy, you and Tommy race from the dusky shoreline and up towards the pier. Much like your race to the car early that afternoon, you and Tommy are enveloped in a breathless fit of giggles as soon as you reach the top. Passersby gawk as Tommy picks you up and spins you around, the carnival lights melting into the emerging stars above.

Tommy sets you back down on your feet, careful to keep his hands hovering over your waist to steady your balance. “Where to first, sweet thing?”

After a view short spurts of vertigo, you’re able to take a look around. With all the flashing lights and colorful displays, it’s hard for you to focus on just one thing at a time. Across the way, you catch sight of an old-fashioned shooting gallery complete with red targets and bee-bee gun rifles. All along the booth’s back wall and upper perimeter are clusters of teddy bears in an assortment of shapes and sizes. You eyes widen as they land on a fluffy pink teddy, its head lolling to the side to reveal a glossy pair of black, buttoned eyes.

“Come on, drummer,” you giggle, tugging on his hand, “this way!”

Tommy complies, allowing you to pull him along with the love-stricken smile never leaving his face. At the counter, he fishes two quarters out of his pocket and tosses them at the timid preteen manning the station. The kid plucks a rifle off of the back wall and instinctively gives it to Tommy, who is more than eager to take it.

“So which one am I shooting for?” Tommy asks, carelessly swiveling the rifle around the booth and gesturing at the bears hanging overhead. The young carnival worker all but ducks for cover as the gun points in his direction, his braces shining through the nervous grimace on his face.

You reach across the counter to place your hand on the rifle’s barrel, gently nudging its nose towards the ground. Tommy, finally realizing the implications of his actions mutters a soft, “sorry dude” in the kid’s general direction.

“Who said I wanted you to shoot for me?” you challenge, hand still firmly resting on the end of the bee bee gun.

“Oh come on,” Tommy whines, “I’ve always wanted to shoot one of these but my parents would never let me.”

“Gee, I can’t imagine why,” you chuckle. Tommy is barely out of his teens, and you have no doubt in your mind that his reckless nature is still very much an extension of his adolescence.

“Please, Y/N?” Tommy’s begging is all too familiar, his pout mirroring all the times he hung defeated in your doorframe over the past few weeks.

You roll your eyes, unable to conceal your soft spot for Tommy’s adorable pout. As you tilt your head upwards, the plush, pink teddy bear catches your attention once again. An idea flickers into your head and you turn to Tommy with a broad smile.

“Fine,” you relent, “but I bet you can’t get that one.”

Tommy looks up at the pink bear suspended above your head, his eyes bright with competitive spirit. Judging by the size and quality of the bear compared to the ones around it, there is no doubt in either of your minds that it’s a top prize.

“Oh yeah? And what do I get if I do, huh?” Tommy takes a step closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he towers above you. An unignorable electric current runs between the two of you, and for a moment all you can think about is how much you’re itching to close the space.

“Depends on what you want,” you shrug, trying the ignore the way your heart is frantically pounding against your ribcage. You know that letting Tommy ask for whatever he wants is a gamble, but you’re a good enough shot to hope that it wouldn’t matter.

Tommy grins confidently, “Another date, duh.” Your heart softens like candy in the sun, and the sincerity in Tommy’s eyes is just as sweet. From what you knew of the guys back home, any of them would have used your bet as an opportunity to be gross. Yet here Tommy is, simply asking to just have more of your time.

I was in love with you from the moment I saw you.

Tommy’s words replay in your head like a cassette tape burning from the inside out. You ignore the pesky memories of Tommy shotgunning smoke into a groupie’s mouth in favor of the first time you caught sight of him, smoking and waving on the balcony.

“Unbelievable,” you find yourself chuckling under your breath, knowing full well it won’t be the last time. “You sure that’s what you wanna shoot for, pretty boy?”

Tommy nearly lets the rifle slip through his grip as the pet name graces his ears, face turning red hot. “F-fine,” he stammers, trying to regain control of the situation, “I guess I’ll take the bear, too.”

You feign a gasp of astonishment, hand flying up to clutch your breastbone. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Tommy winks, “There’s two things I don’t turn down, baby. Bets and dares.”

“Whatever,” you smirk, “but I keep the bear and you take me on the ferris wheel.”

“Ladies first,” Tommy replies, stepping aside so that you have a full view of the gallery. Tommy tosses two more quarters at the kid, who eagerly scrambles to shove a second rifle into your hands. You take it confidently, its weight reminding you of all those summer days back home where there was nothing to do but shoot cans off of the back porch.

Filled with determination, you take a step back and situate the rifle’s stock in the divet of your shoulder. Closing one eye, you align the sight with one of the bright red targets ahead, your finger curling around the trigger in anticipation. All it takes is three bullseyes to win, and you already know Tommy has signed himself up for a losing bet.

With one last look at Tommy, you pull the trigger and fire three shots. Each bee bee connects with the center of the targets in quick succession, and land with a hollow thud to the floor.

Tommy and the boy behind the counter stare at you, mouths completely unhinged with disbelief.

“You can still take the shot if you want,” you comment as you set the rifle down on the counter, “but I believe the bear is mine.”

Tommy should be sinking with defeat, but instead he swells with pride and adoration. His rifle hits the counter noisily as he gestures for the kid to go and retrieve the pink bear. The timid boy hands it over, most likely thankful to be free of your antics for the night.

Tommy holds the bear out to you and pulls one of its arms forward, making it look as though the bear wants to go in for a firm handshake.

“Joint custody?” Tommy asks behind the fuzzy wall of pink fur.

You take the teddy bear’s arm in your hand and give it a good shake, all the while laughing at the outrageousness of it all.

“For being such a good sport? You bet,” you smile, “Now how about that ferris wheel?”

...

The two of you never make it to the ferris wheel, but you don’t mind. There is way too much to do and see, and Tommy can’t help but be pulled toward anything with flashing lights– which just so happens to be everything. First, Tommy drags you through the haunted funhouse, the two of you giggling and screeching with the giant, pink teddy bear sandwiched in the middle. Next is an impromptu skee-ball tournament that ends with Tommy nearly knocking himself out with stray ball, but winning regardless.

As a reward, you show Tommy the secret, feminine art of batting your eyelashes to get favors and free stuff. Tommy observes in amazement as, after minutes of flirting with the guy behind the counter, you return with two fluffy clouds of blue cotton candy on striped, paper cones.

“You’re amazing,” he gapes, and you do what you can to hide your red face behind the orb of spun sugar. Tommy notices your bashfulness, but elects not to tease you about it. He just plucks at his cotton candy and stares off into space with a smirk that just won’t quit.

After a brief sugar high and a few rounds of Galaga and Ms. Pac Man at the arcade, a massive yawn involuntarily swallows your face.

“You ready to hit the road, sleepyhead?”

You nod in response, allowing your body to lean comfortably against the side of Tommy’s. He seems surprised by your sudden display of casual affection, but happily slings an arm around your shoulders anyway.

Trekking back to Mick’s car, you remain glued to Tommy. Despite being firmly wrapped in his jacket, the breeze is cool against your bare legs as it drifts off the ocean, making you shiver. He smiles into your hair, teddy bear dangling from his free hand. You hate to admit it, but even if you were victorious in the bet earlier– Tommy is still winning.

You finally reach the car, thankful to finally sit down and rest your legs. Pulling your knees up, you rest your feet on the dash and giggle as leftover sand sprinkles the floorboards. Mick is sure to kill Tommy later.

“What’s got you all giddy?” Tommy asks, his body twisted towards you as he backs out of the beach parking lot.

You sigh, loving the way that the orange street lights caress the shadow beneath Tommy’s sloping cheekbone. His skin a toasty bronze color from a full day in the sun, but the shine in his baby blue eyes makes you feel like it never set.

“Just–thank you, Tommy.”

He flashes a smile, eyes darting in your direction. “For what?”

“Everything.”

Tommy turns his head, looking at you as if you’d hung the moon and the stars in the sky. You’re just about to tell him to cut it out, when you attention is caught by the flash of headlights shining through the windshield.

“Fuck, Tommy! Watch the road!”

Swerving abruptly to the right, Tommy barely dodges the vehicle hurtling forward in the opposite lane. Regaining control of the car, Tommy clutches the wheel with white knuckles. The both of you are panting, unable to believe that you aren’t just splatters against the pavement. After a few more moments of anxiety and relief coursing through your veins, you lock eyes with Tommy for a brief moment again, this time erupting into a fit of hysterical laughter.

Tommy swipes tears of mirth away from his eyes with a free hand while you sputter out a few more giggles, clutching your aching stomach.

“Dude we almost fucking died,” you wheeze, still grinning so hard it felt like your face might split.

“But we didn’t,” Tommy argues playfully, “Although, if we wreck Mick’s car, the accident better kill me. I don’t even want to know what he’d do to me if I lived.”

“Oh please, even if you did die Mick would just use his alien powers to bring you back and kill you again.”

You kick your feet back up on the dashboard and recline in the passenger’s seat, finally feeling that it’s safe to relax. All the while Tommy shivers at the thought of Mick finding ways to torture him for all eternity.

“What happened to you back there, anyway?” you ask, recalling the way that Tommy seemed to become completely entranced by you just moments before unconsciously drifting into oncoming traffic.

Tommy shrugs, suddenly looking bashful under the moonlight as it flits in and out of view. “I froze up,” he says honestly, sounding as though he doesn’t fully understand it himself.

“What can I say?” he continues, eyes never leaving the road, “it’s what you do to me.”

Your heart jumps in your chest at Tommy’s admission and you suddenly feel as though you’re staring up at the ferris wheel again, bringing you to a painful realization:

You’re falling in love.

...

When you and Tommy finally get back to the apartment building, he insists on walking you up to your door like a “true gentleman”. You try to argue against it– saying that it’s only a short walk up– but he’s persistent as always.

With feet firmly planted on the welcome mat, you stare up at Tommy, fighting the urge to kiss him right then and there. You know he most definitely wouldn’t object, but this was technically yours and Tommy’s first date. You never kiss on the first date, even if you had kissed him only days ago.

Just as you turn to unlock the door, Tommy catches your arm gently. “Can I see you again?”

“I’ll allow it,” you smirk, secretly hoping he comes back to invade your space sooner rather than later. It is Tommy, after all, you know he won’t be able to stay away for long.

You duck into your musty old apartment, feeling much more content than the last time you left Tommy out in the darkness on your doorstep. After splashing some water on your face and giving your teeth a good scrub, you settle into bed. Your skin is still warm from soaking in the sunshine, and you end up falling asleep before your head even gets the chance to hit the pillow.

Your peaceful slumber doesn’t last for long, though. A few hours in, you start to stir, the sound of something pecking at your window intruding your muddied dreams and shaking you awake.

What the fuck?

The tapping continues, and as you become more conscious you realize it sounds like something hitting your window. Just as you’re about to get up and investigate, a rock comes soaring through the glass, shattering the window into a thousand jagged pieces. You bolt upright, your groggy mind unsure of how to process the the lone rock sitting at the edge of your bed in a pile of sparkling glass.

“Goddamnit,” a familiar voice hisses from outside.

Throwing the covers haphazardly off your body, you stumble over to the window, tiptoeing in an effort to avoid all the glass littering the floor. Sticking your head out of the busted window, you see Tommy standing outside next to Mick’s car. His hands are knotted through his hair with panic and it suddenly dawns on you that he’s the culprit.

“Tommy?” you ask stupidly, “Did you just bust my fucking window?”

“Uh, would you be mad if I said yes?” he calls up to you, cringing with embarrassment.

“I can tell you that I’ll be furious if you lie to me, how does that sound?”

You don’t have to be near him to know he’s swallowing the knot in his throat. After such a successful date, you actually thought you and Tommy might reach a point of steady normalcy– and now this.

Flaring with anger at his lack of explanation, you pluck the rock up off the floor and launch it in his general direction. Thankfully, you miss, but the action is enough to effectively get his attention.

“Whatever,” you spit, eye practically twitching with agitation, “I’m going to bed and you are fixing this tomorrow.”

As soon as you duck your head back inside, Tommy calls to you from the ground. “Wait! Don’t go yet– I can explain!”

Reluctantly, you face him again with one eyebrow raised in doubt. “Okay, this oughta be good.”

“I just–” he starts, voice so quiet you have to strain to hear him, “I just wanted to see you again, okay? I read this book–Romeo and Julia, or whatever–and the guy threw rocks at his girl’s window to get her attention, so I thought it might be cool to do for you…”

Tommy is kicking pebbles across the dirt, unable to meet your stare for fear of what you might say. Little does he know that there’s a fire burning in your chest, but it’s the farthest thing from anger.

“You’re insane!” you shout, undoubtedly waking the whole neighborhood, “and I’m not your girl.” You try to make your voice sound firm, but Tommy can see the smile threatening to tear your face wide open.

Tommy takes a step forward, regaining some of his confidence. “Not insane, just romantic,” he fidgets with a rock in his hand as he stares up at you, eyes glimmering with hope.

“Oh is that what we’re calling now?” you know that any normal person would have either gone back to bed or called the cops by now, but you can’t seem to pull yourself away from Tommy’s adoring smile. “You know they die at the end right? Romeo and Juliet?”

“Will you please just let me inside so we can talk about it?”

You huff and rub the sleep from your eyes, “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“How could I sleep when you’re all I think about?” Tommy’s hands clutch at his chest as he speaks, pouring his heart out like a true Romeo. “I’m going out of my mind, Y/N. You make me wanna howl at the fucking moon!”

You have to hold you face in your hands to keep the dorky grin from taking over your face. Tommy’s right– he is out of his mind.

“Okay fine! I believe you!” you laugh, unsure if the situation is actually amusing or if the lack of sleep is taking over. “Now stop being a clown and get inside.”

“For real?”

You roll your eyes, “Who else is going to clean up all this glass?”

Unsurprisingly, Tommy bounds up the stairs anyway. At this point, you could probably tell Tommy the whole building is on fire and he would still be just as eager to come up and see you. It’s as endearing as it is frustrating, but there’s something about the whole situation that’s just so Tommy.

You barely have time to move away from the window before you hear Tommy pounding excitedly on the door. Side-stepping around the pool of broken glass in the center of your floor, you pad across the hall and over to the front door.

When you open up, Tommy pushes in past you, giving you no time to be embarrassed about the fact that your only pajamas are a large t-shirt and a pair of frilly underwear. Deep down, you know you must look like a mess with your dark circles and hair tangled together with sand and surf, but you’re too sleepy to care.

“Wanna see the damage?” you ask, nodding your head in the general direction of your bedroom.

Tommy waltzes into your room, but is quickly halted by the sound of broken glass crunching against the soles of his Chuck Taylor’s. Tommy looks up at you, baring his teeth apologetically.

“Fuck, dude. I’m so sorry.”

Silently, you grab the broom and dustpan from the kitchen and toss them towards Tommy. To your relief he catches both with unsteady hands and a triumphant smile.

“Then prove it,” you say, flopping onto your bed. The old springs squeak and bounce beneath your weight, making it feel as though the ocean waves are shoving against you once again. “I will be getting my security deposit back. Over Romeo and Juliet’s dead bodies.”

Tommy can’t help but laugh as he sweeps all the shards littered about your room into a heap. You roll your eyes for the umpteenth time that hour, appalled that he would be so amused by your sour mood.

After accumulating nearly all of your broken window’s remains into the dustpan, Tommy leaves to go dump it out in the kitchen trash. When Tommy left the room he had a dustpan full of glass and a smile on his face, but, as he returns, all you can see are empty hands and a furrowed brow.

You sit up immediately, patting the space next to you so Tommy will sit down. He complies and takes a seat next to you, the mattress dipping downward at the sudden change in weight.

“What’s the matter?” you ask, wondering what could have possibly caused his mood to fall so quickly. There’s a chance that the day’s exhaustion finally got the better of him, but you’d seen him with more energy in worse places.

“It’s stupid,” he mumbles.

“Oh come on, Tommy,” you rest a hand on his arm supportively, the warmth of his skin feeling hot enough to burn your fingertips. “You said you wanted to talk, right?”

“Right,” his voice comes out as barely a whisper, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

Tommy twists to the side to face you, peering up at you from his dejected posture with misty eyes. “Why don’t you wanna be my girl?”

The question falls from his lips and pierces through you like a spear to the heart. You suck in a sharp breath and knot your fingers together in your lap, not quite knowing what to say. It’s not that you don’t want to be Tommy’s– you just don’t know if you’re ready for it yet. Nothing in your life has ever felt more right, and yet every alarm of self-doubt in your body is shrieking that you’re to end up with a broken heart.

It’s fear that’s holding you back. Not the fear of love, but the fear of falling.

“Tommy, it’s not that I don’t want to,” you sigh, wanting so badly not to fuck things up, “I just wanna take things slow is all. Get to know the real you...be friends– you know?”

You heart is beating in your throat as you wait for Tommy’s response, the draft from your busted window chasing goosebumps up your back from the base of your spine. Much to your chagrin, Tommy stays stock still and says nothing.

Unable to endure the silence any longer, you spring to your feet. “I’m going to go make us some tea, okay? Be right back,” you babble, doing your best to pick up the pieces of yours and Tommy’s day and make it whole again.

You make it about two feet away from the bed before a firm hand clutches your wrist, jerking you around. The sudden movement causes a small yelp to escape from your throat as your feet stumble clumsily forward. You fall immediately onto Tommy’s standing figure, your chest pressing firmly against his. Mind reeling, you look up at Tommy for an explanation, astonished to find that his face is only inches from your own.

“We’re not just friends and you know it,” he growls, his breath hot against your gaping mouth. The sensation causes the space between your thighs to twitch involuntarily, setting every nerve ending in your body aflame with desire.

The last thing you hear is the sound of your own pulse rushing through your ears before Tommy’s lips crash against yours.

Masterlist

#how many times can I use a kiss as a cliffhanger??#spoilers: the limit does not exist #tbh though i'm really proud of this one guys #mgk!tommy lee #mgk!tommy lee x reader #tommy lee #tommy lee x reader #motley crue #mötley crüe #vince neil #nikki sixx #mick mars #the dirt #the dirt netflix #mgk #machine gun kelly #writing #80s #80s music

213 notes · View notes

phclemenza-blog · 7 years

Text

Track 1: Any Trouble – Where Are All the Nice Girls? (1980)

A simple life is all I need

Two shots of fantasy and one of make-believe

I never tried too hard to make this succeed

You're the only one I need

— Second Choice written by Clive Gregson

This quote could be the unofficial motto of a diffident and rather understated 80s pub band called Any Trouble. They grew out of the “angry young man” singer-songwriter movement led by Elvis Costello, Joe Jackson, and Graham Parker, but Any Trouble, led by singer/songwriter/rhythm guitarist Clive Gregson, always seemed to have some tenderness under that angry façade. Any Trouble is also a band that had such bad luck that I will be using Spinal Tap references to demarcate the sections.

Merely a two-word review, just said, “Sh*t Sandwich…”

I first ran across the band Any Trouble in my high school days in the early 80s, and thought they were slight but passably enjoyable but not much more. However, my esteem for them has grown to the point where I wanted to start this blog to sing, as it were, their praises. So why the sea change in opinion?

In the states in the early 80s, there were three ways to encounter aspiring British bands at least in the Northeast: the then still nascent MTV, 92.7 FM WLIR from Long Island (usually via tapes from friends), and underground radio shows like London Underground. At the time, Any Trouble had already been dropped by Stiff Records and had reinvented themselves as a keyboard-heavy, pastel-coloured 80s New Wave band in the A-ha and Spandau mold. I found this music on early MTV (even though to this day I do enjoy their 1983 eponymous album which I purchased on vinyl back in the day, featuring some fine pop songs buried under layers of keyboard, especially “I’ll Be Your Man” and “Touch and Go”). Gregson explained it in the liner notes from their Complete Stiff Recordings compilation, “The result was my least favorite AT album…featuring some of the best songs! For the first time we tried to chase fashion…and failed miserably. The keyboard and synth heavy sound was a million miles from the guitar jangle we’d previously made…and nobody seemed to much care for the new approach.”1

Years later when I rediscovered the band researching on the extremely helpful and useful AllMusic site, I was surprised that they were a pub band originally. Their driving, heartfelt, singer/songwriter style of pub fare was so much up my alley that I was shocked to find I was unfamiliar with it (although I did faintly remember the video for “Second Choice” on MTV’s very early days, probably before Stiff stiffed them).

If it was in dubly…

The problems for Any Trouble started with the comparisons to the other angry young men, especially Elvis Costello. They had a bespectacled, unconventional-looking lead singer who also wrote the songs and played guitar, and they played jangly, R&B-based pop rock. Some even called their first hit, Second Choice, “stunningly derivative…a retread of ‘Less than Zero’” and Gregson’s voice a “nasal” version of Costello’s distinctive baritone full of “overall nice-guy swellness.”2Gregson even acknowledged the similarities: “Nobody could deny that our first album owed a sonic and arrangement debt to EC’s first LP. Both records are primarily guitar based and focused on mostly short-ish, uptempo, R’n’B based pop rock songs…It was all too easy a comparison to make because EC was there first and had already achieved a great deal of commercial success, we rather come off as a poor runner up.”1

Also reviews at the time were less than forgiving with Any Trouble’s pub band style, something that had, in the cognoscenti’s opinion, run its course 5 years prior with bands like Brinsley Schwartz and a hundred others who never cracked the billboards charts let alone the public’s perception but who inspired Rockpile, Elvis Costello, and a host of punk bands who were pub rocks followers. It is difficult to imagine a band being chastised today for their style being a few years out of date given all of the retro styles being plumbed for inspiration but the seventies were a decade that started with the end of the Beatles and witnessed pub rock, punk rock, disco, and the start of new wave to name a few. Times were a-changing quickly then.

Though Any Trouble espoused the angry young men’s attitude their soft hearts belied their message and in an age of punk, it was inexcusable. Any Trouble’s “nice girls” seemed like Graham Parker’s “local girls” but Clive Gregson still wanted to “kiss her feet and shake her hand”. The band’s name was derived from a misremembered line in the great film Blazing Saddles when Cleavon Little holds himself hostage oddly to save his own life. At least the Shoes correctly cited John Lennon in naming themselves. Talk about an unpretentious, even self-marginalized band.

Their self-effacing approach helps explain their rather diminished legacy, though luck and other factors played a role. This is a band that was happy just to be on the Stiff Records roster though that also ended being to their detriment. But for that we have to review their full history.

We traveled the world and elsewhere…

Any Trouble was formed in 1975 in Crewe, England while Gregson was attending teacher training college. They started as an acoustic trio covering artists like the Who, the Band, the Beatles, and Bruce Springsteen. Their name stuck quickly but “[i]t seemed to conjure up a vision of something approaching an Oi! Band to certain punters who were never slow to let us know they were very disappointed by our brand of melodic (albeit pretty rapid!) pop-rock.” They were even billed as “Andy Trouble” once.1

In a couple of years punk was sweeping the UK, but Any Trouble was more influenced by the singer-songwriter artists like Costello, Parker, and Rockpile, who had “a clearer connection to the American stuff [they] were already playing”. The band moved to Manchester in 1978 and set their lineup: Gregson (vocals, guitar, and keyboards), founding member & lead guitarist Chris Parks, drummer Mel Harley, and bassist and backing vocalist Phil Barnes. Gregson had started to write songs in his “hyperactive new wave style.” 1

By mid-1979, they were ready for a demo tape. The group borrowed money from Phil Barnes’s dad, and on August 17 recorded four songs in eleven hours at Pennine Studios. After 5 more hours of mixing, Any Trouble were ready to release an indie double-A-side single of “Yesterday’s Love” and “Nice Girls”. 500 copies were pressed, some of which the band sold at gigs, but Barnes and Parks, who worked at an HMV record store, would give a copy to each label sales rep. They eventually gave a copy to the legendary John Peel, who was on a road show at Manchester University but “he dropped it into a big black bin bag that was already full of records and demo tapes: every band in the north west had apparently had the same idea!” 1 A few weeks later Peel played “Yesterday’s Love”, and soon the song was making the rounds at the various BBC radio shows. “So in essence we had a single that nobody could really buy, recorded by a band with no professional management or structure, getting what amounted to A-list airplay at the BBC…Pretty amazing!” 1

The band found a professional manager and started fielding offers from major labels like EMI, WEA, Rak, Chrysalis, and Stiff. The studio reps visited their shows and tried the band out in the studio. Once the band heard that Stiff wanted them, the competition was over. “[W]e were already fans of the label, their artists, their style – so we duly signed to Stiff in early 1980.” 1 “We went with Stiff because they were our kind of people working with acts that we actually liked!”4

Any Trouble returned to Pennine Studios with former Squeeze producer John Wood, and made a record in a couple of weeks. “When we made our first album that was our live sound. Just like the Beatles - that first album was our stage show. We made the whole record in less than three weeks - and we should have done it in less than a day really (laughs).” 3

Expectations were high for the release. Gregson: “Half of me was absolutely thrilled that Allan [music journalist Allan Jones of “Melody Maker”] and various other media folk were waxing so lyrical about the album and the band…and half of me couldn’t really understand what they were getting so excited about! I liked the record but I mostly thought of it as a starting point and far from the finished article.” 1 “But Allan was really taken with it and stuck us on the front cover of Melody Maker saying this is the greatest thing since sliced bread and we patently weren't.”3 Talk about modest!

Artie Fufkin, Polymer Records…

The marriage to Stiff was clearly a huge mistake. “In terms of chart success, fame, and fortune, Stiff and Any Trouble patently didn’t work! We were spectacularly unsuccessful…we actually weren’t anything like a ‘typical’ Stiff band…We simply didn’t have the strong visual image that Ian Dury, Madness et al had in spades. Check out our Stiff videos…talk about a band in search of a look!” 1

The album also faltered overseas as the fledgling Stiff America label was out of its depth. “The label was becoming rather more mainstream in many ways... and I think they felt that what Any Trouble was all about was right for the new times. They were hopeful that we could also spearhead breaking the label in the USA.”4 “When we arrived in the States in December 1980 as part of the Son of Stiff tour, we had the most added airplay record nationwide but no albums in stores and no effective distribution or marketing programme…a glorious missed opportunity.” 1

Like Artie Fufkin, apparently, the Stiff America reps had no timing. A Stiff rep also reportedly encouraged Gregson to go solo (as “Buddy” Gregson to compound a bad idea). Stiff did think highly enough of Any Trouble as a live band to put out an “official bootleg” live album but the disc never did get a proper release outside of Germany (in 1989) and as a radio promotion until “The Complete Stiff Recordings 1980-1981” compilation came out in 2013.

“But by the time we had improved and got better the fuss had all gone. You only really get one shot in the big nasty world of the music business and it went disastrously wrong because we weren't really ready for it.”3

Puppet Show and Spinal Tap…

The band followed up Where Are All the Nice Girls? with Wheels in Motion but with a new drummer, new producer, and a relocation to London. The record company started getting nervous about the lack of commercial success. Searching for scapegoats, Wood was removed as producer and replaced by Mike Howlett but the excecs had a falling out with him as well, over the mixes and tended to replace rougher but visceral mixes with the more polished final mixes. The band toured the US to support the album but after about a month were summarily dropped by Stiff. Their manager tried to keep the tour going by booking them to open for Molly Hatchett (Any Trouble Mach 2?). However, the band instead returned to The Stiff office in New York to get tickets back to England but instead had their van robbed. They did return home but did so with their tails between their legs. Of the relationship, Gregson said, “I’ve often thought that being able to say ‘I was in a band signed to Stiff Records’ is not a million miles away from being able to say ‘I was in a Merseybeat band in the 60s’”. 1

How much more black could this be? The answer is none, none more black…

The band then went their separate ways—“we had no manager, no label, no money, and no real prospects.” 1 But Gregson conjured up the version of Any Trouble that I originally encountered in 1983 and signed a deal with EMI America. However, the band never would tour the US to support the album even though they were signed to an American label. They did return to England and Europe.

Any Trouble was so surprised that EMI America picked up the option on a second album that they reunited with producer John Wood and produced a double album with each a different approach for each of the four album sides with guest musicians on side one, horns and string on side 2, moody ballads on side 3, and an odds’n’sods side 4. Gregson calls this the best album of their original run. EMI did not release the double album in the states, replacing it with a single disc version, again did not support a US tour, and finally dropped the band from the label.

Any Trouble played one last gig at Dingwalls in London and would not reunite for another 23 years. “I always say that getting away from EMI in 1985 was the end of my involvement in the music business and the start of my involvement in the Clive Gregson business!”4 The reunited band now has now produced 2 albums: Life in Reverse (2007 on Stiff Records and again produced by John Wood) and Present Tense (2015 on Cherry Red). Clive Gregson has put out 15 solo albums since 1985 when EMI liberated him, including five from his pairing as a folk duo with Christine Collister.5

The Tracks

A note on the track listings – They are listed by the original UK 1980 LP order by side and track for the original 10 songs (e.g., A1 means the song appeared on side A and was track 1 of that side). The original running time was 34:31. In the US three songs were added, two covers—Springsteen’s “Growing Up” and ABBA’s “Name Of The Game”—and the B-side “No Idea” and one song (“Honolulu”) was omitted.6 I, however, first become acquainted with the album via the 1997 Compass release, the first on CD, which included 3 extra tracks to the original ten (run time 43:07). When the band reorganized and resigned with Stiff in 2007, a reissue of the CD with the same track listing as the 1997 disc was released with one addition, the original 1979 single version of “New Girl”. The 2013 Complete Stiff Recordings CD1 of a 3-disc set covers the album and adds the original 1979 single version of “Nice Girls”, a remix of “Turning Up the Heat”, and a demo of “The Hurt” to the 1997 CD version.

As with a lot of forgotten discs, it has evolved over the years. I list all of the songs below.

A1 Second Choice

(Also released as a single with B-side of “The Name of the Game” & “Bible Belt” (live))

Written-By – Clive Gregson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sryujH_qX-4

I never felt the need to cry or rejoice.

I never felt the need to raise my voice.

I only wanted to be one of the boys.

Now, you’ve made me second choice.

The first cut on the album was the single, as was typical in those days, and it also served as a good introduction to Any Trouble’s frenetic music style and its world view. The song opens with Parks and Gregson doubling each other with Byrds-like jangly guitar work and the rhythm section embracing a ska beat. After the opening lines from Gregson, the chorus settles into a more standard pop fare with more of a walking bass line (with two notes per beat) and fewer fills on the drums. The style is Any Trouble at its best: a simple pop song a bit sped up.

As to whether Any Trouble was power pop, it seemed Gregson himself was not sure though he leaned against it, “I was never that sure that we really were a ‘power pop’ band... I always felt that we were rather more of a simple pop/rock band with a bit of an r 'n' b sensibility. I also had roots in contemporary folk music and was never averse to bringing some of that influence to the table. Most acts who were tagged with the ‘power pop’ label had a much tougher, edgy guitar sound than us... we specialised in a particularly scratchy Fender jangle through tinny amps sound! Chris was also very country influenced as a guitarist... Our songs tended to be short-ish with a proper melody, hook lines and plenty of relationship angst themes! Nowadays it all seems to have a rather naïve charm and not much actual ‘power’ at all...”4

As regards Gregson’s message, it takes the rebuffed lover and delves into his psyche from “the nursery school floor” to what he wants today, which in Gregson’s world is merely the girl, the simple life, and the requisite imagination to think this is success.

A2 Playing Bogart

Written-By – Nick Simpson https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LB-N46M-CaM

Give me something for the man

Who doesn't have to try too hard

Spent a little time rehearsing my tom petty leer

Well I dressed up for my conquest

Come out fighting no holds barred

And I pray for courage and some halfway decent beer

“Playing Bogart” was the only cover on the original album. It was written by Nick Simpson, the lead singer of a band called 23 Jewels out of Manchester.7 The single came out a year earlier and the band would only generate two singles and an EP before fading into the ether in 1981.8 The 23 Jewsels version of the song can be heard here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WP1QqAARG8U.

The song fits into Any Trouble’s ethos of the nerdy everyman trying to live up to ideal male hero like Humphrey Bogart who always got the girl and looked cool smoking and drinking something neat. The hero waits for his chance at a party to meet a girl, tries to live up to his ideal, but is scared off by her other suiters and ends up sitting on his bed smoking a single cigarette in the dark (there might be a metaphor there). Even though he has that “7:30 Friday night feeling” in his bones, he is defeated before he even starts knowing that he cannot carry off the image he has set for himself with his weariness with the same conversations, his eyes red from smoke and his legs going lame—it’s no wonder with the pathos the hero feels: “all martyrs suffer as I walk back slowly through the bar.” He consoles himself that he is better off by himself if he loses “playing Bogart” unlike those “good-time people [making] excuses on their telephones.”

The hero girding himself for the conquest is also belied by the tense and nervous musical style of the song. If he presents himself as cool and calm like Bogart, that certainly isn’t how he is feeling under it all from the start of the song if one listens to its kinetic style. Any Trouble takes the already fast but sloppy 23 Jewels version and quickens the pace while making the song a tight, neurotic anthem in the Any Trouble vein.

A3 Foolish Pride

Written-By – Clive Gregson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UmrIo5iL6vk

She’s so high class, you’re gonna have to let her pass and swallow your foolish pride.

“Foolish Pride” is the first ballad-y, slower song on the album, but as Gregson said, “[W]e played pretty much everything at a furious tempo. Even the ‘slow’ songs…”9 It might be the prettiest and most idealistic song on the album. The guitars soar—and is that a pedal guitar added in as well?—as he sees the girl with “angel eyes” and the song follows a typical boy-meets-girl love song until the hero realizes that she is not the one for him and the guitars crash back to earth. They scratch out a nervous tempo while the hero realizes that he has to swallow his foolish pride and let her go because he is not man enough.

A4 Nice Girls

(Also, 1979 original version released as a B-side to “Yesterday’s Love”; re-released 1980)

Written-By – Clive Gregson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=itYqWUSAqRQ&index=4&list=PLJbEfr2GyzFsFPD5eBY_-69ZCw_BWmIOA

Oh, where are all the real girls?

They act the way they feel girls?

I may love Where Are All the Nice Girls? since it follows Rob Gordon’s compilation tape rules from the John Cusack film High Fidelity. It starts off “with a killer to grab attention” and then takes it up a notch. Then it “cools it off a notch” with “Foolish Pride”, but probably the best song on the album and the one that give it its title comes.

“Nice Girls” starts with a simple, plaintive guitar riff and then Gregson sings his most mournful. A second guitar followed by a Procol Harum organ, a “perfect drunkenly sad-organ” 10, then takes up the cause. Finally, drums and bass take it to the next level. A jumpy chorus breaks up the mournful strains, but the song continues to build until it finally fades away.

[Re. the 1979 B-side: The original “Nice Girls” B-side recording is a bit looser (9 seconds longer) than the 1980 LP version. The lonely organ is missing but the result might sound a bit closer to the Any Trouble live sound when they are playing a slow song towards the end of the night to the hoots of the crowd to keep their anticipation up for the kicker at the end. There is also no fadeout like on the album—maybe the old studio did not have that functionality yet.]

A5 Turning Up The Heat

(Also, a remix version was added to the 2013 Complete Stiff Recordings CD1)

Written-By – Clive Gregson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KKgx4Y0j5SY&index=6&list=PLJbEfr2GyzFsFPD5eBY_-69ZCw_BWmIOA

Look around you baby and you see them all havin’ fun.

Hey, now, why are you the lonely one?

Again Rob Gordon would be happy: “Heat” builds on the power of “Nice Girls”. A chorus with female backing singers is added for the first time on the album which creates a new wrinkle. Gregson actually sounds like early “I’m the Man”-era Joe Jackson. I am not sure what the lyrics are all about—landing at an airport and there are crowds and then there is a girl who’s lonely and that turns up the heat?—but it is a great pop song.

[Re. the Remix: The remix version has a bit more treble and sounds a bit faster clocking in at 2:54 as opposed to 3:00 for the original. Maybe it sounded a bit more New Wave in the high, fast version like a Vapers tune.]

B1 Romance

Written-By – Clive Gregson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uEJ-SMjEvkg&index=10&list=PLJbEfr2GyzFsFPD5eBY_-69ZCw_BWmIOA

They say love’s a mystery.

All seems so clear to me:

Love’s another promise I could never keep.

Side A set up the formula for Where Are All the Nice Girls?, but Side B blows the doors off. The album starts going in all sorts of directions and each is better than the last. “Romance” gets the heart pumping right away with a double beat followed by guitars, bass, and drums frantically racing each other up and down the melody. The last thing it seems is romantic—“sweating in the shade.” Quite the contrary, the words talk about love being a Kafkaesque mystery. Gregson starts out talking to “you”, his alter ego he is advising, then about “they”, i.e., society telling him how he should act and feel, and finally “I”, where he finally owns his failure in romance as “another promise I could never keep.” The song then rushes to an abrupt finish.

B2 The Hurt

(Also, a demo version appears on The Complete Stiff Recordings, CD1)

Written-By – Clive Gregson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pG5fuMfYmbs

Loving you is like playing with fire.

I tried it once and it burned my desire.

“The Hurt” barely misses a beat with Gregson again shout-singing his heart out in Joe Jackson style all the while being chased by racing guitars. At least he is actually trying love this time, but now he is afraid of “the hurt”. Neurotically, he is sure it is rushing towards him. At least he is now being honest with himself as the music echoes his inner turmoil unlike in “Romance”.

[Re. the Demo: It sounds a bit looser and slower (15 seconds longer than the LP version). It sounds a bit like a Greg Kihn cover of the song.]

B3 Girls Are Always Right

(Also released as a single with B-side “No Idea”)

Written-By – Clive Gregson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8cz7Tusig0

The way that girls act is a problem for me.

Everything they do is complete mystery.

They stand around being so outspoken.

They’re just waiting for their hearts to be broken.

“Girls Are Always Right” takes a moment to cool the heat from the first two songs on side B at least initially. Then Gregson sings his heart out in a song that seems to mirror Joe Jackson’s classic “Is She Really Going Out With Him?” As the lovelorn singer wallows in self-pity apparently finally having “the hurt” catch up with him and his only solace is the sarcasm in saying that the girls are always right. The song takes the intensity building in the last two songs and, though it is slower, keeps it building. The female backing singers return like a Greek chorus and with snarling guitars prod and harass the hero. The song is “four minutes of evocative yet tender, poppy angst.” 10 “Girls Are Always Right” is Any Trouble at their gut-wrenching best.

The song builds slowly and progressively. It starts with a shimmery guitar twang and then twinkling cymbals, laconic piano, an occasional bass beat, and a second complementary guitar join in. Then Gregson voice floats in. Finally, drums and a proper bass line join to a crescendo about a minute in. The guitars shimmer and entwine like cooing doves or a couple in love. Then the piano returns with the cymbals momentarily until a second crescendo about two minutes into the song with backing singers now joining in. The piano and guitar (no cymbals this time) return one last time as the song again builds to one last crescendo about 3.5 minutes in. The song soars and builds throughout.

B4 Honolulu

(Note: Dropped from 1980 US version of the LP)

Written-By – Clive Gregson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZE-1O2v_Sbc&index=12&list=PLJbEfr2GyzFsFPD5eBY_-69ZCw_BWmIOA

I don’t care if I never say a word.

This kind of a love should be seen and not heard.

“Honolulu” feels like a fresh break from the romantic cycle of the previous three songs, both musically and lyrically. The song starts with Gregson soto voce and upbeat about meeting a girl while a guitar strums. He is just voicing his desires, living in the moment about love being “seen and not heard”.

The music amps up to Any Trouble’s typical frenetic pace but now it sounds like excitement, not neuroses, even if it is all just a dream. The female backup singers appear one last time, doubling Gregson’s wishes as if the girl is into it for once. But it is short-lived…

B5 (Get You Off) The Hook

Written-By – Clive Gregson

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_GWiYPryuG4&list=PLJbEfr2GyzFsFPD5eBY_-69ZCw_BWmIOA&index=13

Because you're closed in the pages of a hist'ry book And the last one says that you've run out of luck But you can't sew, and you can't cook So the time has come to GET YOU OFF THE HOOK...

The album ends with Gregson again heartbroken and in pain on “The hook”. However, this time he tells himself (addressed again as “you”) that it will be all right—he’ll save himself. The song starts in a mournful shuffle like a lonely man walking the streets and hesitates as he recounts all of the problems he now faces, but it races as he declares that he will get himself of the hook. Now, the song is upbeat with a playful organ riff—a la Steve Nieve on Elvis Costello’s “You Belong to Me” or “Senior Service”—rising over the guitars, and it ends the album in a series of false starts as the hero again has some trepidation but the happy organ keeps breaking through.

Yesterday's Love

(1979 single with B-side “Nice Girls”, re-released 1980 & Track 1 on the 1997 CD release)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pYVm73yMAdg

I don’t want to be your lover

I just want to hold you for the rest of the night.

“Yesterday's Love” roars off at the start of Who Are All the Nice Girls? as it was first released on CD (in 1997). That was the version that I was first introduced to and fell in love with. However, I now acknowledge that the original LP version is the best one given the cogent, economic, and effective artistic message it presents. Being the completist that I am, I still prefer the more bloated 13-song CD version though a good compromise would just be to prepend “Yesterday's Love” at the beginning of the LP.

It is a shame that this emphatic song did not make the final album cut since it is Rob Gordon’s perfect kickoff to the album. Initially, it is just Gregson singing in your right ear (love the low tech mixing) like an angel (or devil) on your shoulder. The lines above burst through to open up “Yesterday's Love”, which is a strong Any Trouble version of power pop. The closest comparison in feel is Elvis Costello’s “The Beat” from This Year’s Model, which came out the year before the single was recorded. The song may have been cut just for its blasé approach to love not fitting the album ethic. “Yesterday's Love” is terrific, it must be said, and it is not a surprise it made them a mini-sensation prior to producing their first album.

No Idea

(Side A Track 3 on the 1980 US release & Track 6 on the 1997 CD release; Also released as the B-side to “Girls Are Always Right” single)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hGn07K9VqcQ&index=7&list=PLJbEfr2GyzFsFPD5eBY_-69ZCw_BWmIOA

And the only love I know is like a light out in the dark

Shining! Shining! Everywhere.

“No Idea” is maybe the most positive song on the extended album, which may have been why it ended up on the cutting room floor. It is another great power-pop tune about love, loneliness, and loss. The lines above just shimmer--great song but it would get lost in the mix. It does show why Where Are All the Nice Girls? is a lost classic: even a rejected track could have been a standout on an average album. Here it seems repetitive and almost forgettable.

Growing Up

(Side B Track 1 on the 1980 US release & Track 11 on the 1997 CD release)

Written-By – Bruce Springsteen

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UdeszR8o90g&index=9&list=PLJbEfr2GyzFsFPD5eBY_-69ZCw_BWmIOA

I took month-long vacations in the stratosphere, and you know it's really hard to hold your breath

I swear I lost everything I ever loved or feared, I was the cosmic kid in full costume dress

“Growing Up” was an addition to the US edition of the 1980 LP to appeal to the American crowd. Thematically, it fits in with the idea of emotional growth and Any Trouble rips through it joyfully earning their pub band stripes. It was also a great cover at a time when Springsteen had not yet broken as big as he soon would. However, the Springsteen anthem is at odds with the romantic hero Gregson espouses in detail in the rest of the album The Boss had other ambitions.

The music is typical Any Trouble at a hyperkinetic pace. Their version is about half a minute quicker than the Boss’s. They forego the piano intro for a nervous guitar but add a rousing organ solo by producer Bob Sargeant.

Also, one of the features of the original song is ending each chorus with a rhyming progression from “they said, ‘Sit down,” I stood up” to “they said, ‘Come down,’ I threw up” to “they said, ‘Pull down,’ I pulled up.” Gregson in his hurried style blows right by that progression repeating three times some garbled variation of the last line (“I stood in the mortar and up the driveway, when they said, ‘Pull down,’ I pulled up.” Maybe?). Apparently, the band did not find this out until they played in New York: “I vividly remember playing our version of Springsteen’s ‘Growing Up’ in the Boss’s own backyard only for some guy in the crowd to bellow, “You got the words wrong!’ at the end...and he was right!”1

That was not the only thing the band got wrong with the song. Springsteen’s title was “Growin’ Up”, not “Growing Up”.

Name Of The Game

(Side B Track 6 on the 1980 US release; Also released as the B-side to “Second Choice” single)

Written-By – Benny Goran Bror Andersson, Bjoern K. Ulvaeus, Stig Erik Leopold Anderson (ABBA cover)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ee4xHnWvvYk&list=PLZBgEVaTJlNOM5vwPuHU_XsCzKDDjqZwP&index=20

What's the name of the game? Does it mean anything to you?

What's the name of the game? Can you feel it the way I do?

Tell me please, 'cause I have to know

I'm a bashful child, beginning to grow

Another addition to the 1980 US LP was “Name of the Game”. I guess since Americans love ABBA (and yet “Honolulu”, which is in America after all, was taken off the album). It is a nice cover with a disco beat is a pub rock setting. Again it is a nice fir thematically for the band: uncertainty, love, etc.

But it is the least essential song on the list. It was left off the CD reissues of the album until the comprehensive three-disc Complete Stiff Recordings and then as part of the live set At the Venue (disc 3), not Where Are All the Nice Girls?

Ours go to eleven…

They had the dodgiest band name I can ever remember and their stage clothes were laughable, but the songs were world class and on-stage they played with the energy and enthusiasm of four escaped convicts let loose in a bar full or women.

I loved ’em but always stood back from the stage—Clive sang with such passion that he kept spitting over the front row and insisted on playing the ugliest Telecaster I’ve ever seen! Nearly twenty years later I can still sing the words to every song on this album and wish I could see them play the Venue just one more time before I die. (Nigel Dick, former Stiff Records press officer) 11

I loved the whole album…amazed at how much great lyric and melody Clive Gregson could squeeze into tracks that were moving at 90 m.p.h.!!! (Dennis Locorriere, Dr. Hook) 11

I was far away from Manchester, England when I first discovered an album with four curious looking guys staring up at me. It was as if they were they were saying, “Hey, aren’t you going to listen to us?” I was a DJ in Santa Barbara, California, at a little progressive radio station called KTYD. The DJ’s had a lot of freedom to pick their own music and often initialed the cuts they liked. I turned it over an d every song had someone’s initials on it. My curiosity heightened and I placed it on the turntable. Being female, I put the needle down on “Girls Are Always Right”. It was love at first listen. I decided to segue it into “It’s Different for Girls” by Joe Jackson. Beautiful. (Erin Riley) 11

Where Are All the Nice Girls? is an album that not only does not have a weak track, you could take any of these tracks and they would be a standout on another album. There is an urgency that is tangible.

The perfect storm of a finely honed pub band with many influences coming together at the right time musically created this lost classic: “I think you’d get four completely different answers if you asked the band what influenced our sound! I’ve always been obsessed with The Beatles, Chris’s guitar hero was Tim Renwick (Sutherland Brothers and Quiver), Phil wanted to be Kenny Gradney (Little Feat) and Mel was very into Genesis. And of course we didn’t sound remotely like any of those bands at all! We were essentially a fairly basic two guitar/bass/drums band who somehow got spannered into New Wave…”9

Reviewing the tracks on this album in its various incarnations helped me rediscover what it is that I truly enjoy about it. Of course, there is the nerdy romantic hero with whom identify, but there is also the nervous, energetic, driving music that may or may not be Power Pop.

The one thing that I came away with in re-reviewing the album was how good side B of the original album was. It may not be the side B of Abbey Road but the way the songs build and musically and lyrically is pretty impressive. It is also something that is lost when listening to the album in the CD version with bonus tracks added.

Unfortunately, Gregson does not seem to think much of his first record, “I listen back to that first record now and I don't much like it - I don't think we were very good at all. It's very derivative and we didn't play very well and it was just a good honest attempt at what we were doing at that time. A lot of smarter people saw through it and saw it for what it was - just a naive little pop record.”3 But I think there is a timelessness that is based more on feeling that may be lost even on the artist that recorded it. Maybe a naïve little pop record that is made extremely well can transcend such inherent limitations.

There definitely is a style that is embodied by Any Trouble. As Clive Gregson said of the 2007 reconstructed version of the band, “[S]o off we went, having not played together at all in the interim! We recorded the first song for that album…and it sounded exactly like Any Trouble! That either means that we’ve not learned a thing on the intervening 33 years…or that we’d got it dead right first time round...I’ll let the listener make their own mind up on that…”9

Credits 1

Clive Gregson : Lead Vocals, Guitars, Keyboards

Phil Barnes: Bass & Vocals

Chris Parks: Guitars

Mel Harley: Drums

Alison Tulloch & Diane Robinson: Backing Vocals (“Turning Up the Heat”, “Girls Are Always Right”, “Honolulu”)

Bob Sargeant: Organ (“Growing Up”)

Engineer – Paul Adshead

Producer – John Wood (except “No Idea” & “Growing Up”: Bob Sargeant; “Yesterday’s Love”, “Nice Girls (single version), and “The Hurt” (demo): Any Trouble)

Recorded at Perrine Sound Studios, Oldham & Mixed at Sound Techniques, Chelsea (except “No Idea” & “Growing Up”: recorded & mixed at Roundhouse Studios, London; “Yesterday’s Love”, “Nice Girls (single version), and “The Hurt” (demo): recorded & mixed at Perrine Sound Studios)

References

1 Interview with Clive Gregson from Any Trouble: The Complete Stiff Recordings 1980-1981 booklet

2 Trouser Press (http://www.trouserpress.com/entry.php?a=any_trouble)

3 "Clive Gregson - The Triste Interview". Triste Magazine. October 1999. (http://www.triste.co.uk/gregson.htm)

4 Goggins, Patrick. "Interview with Clive Gregson (September 2014)". Dispatches from Coconut Grove blog (http://dispatchesfromcoconutgrove.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/interview-with-clive-gregson.html).

5 AllMusic.com’s Clive Gregson page: http://www.allmusic.com/artist/clive-gregson-mn0000788222/discography

6 Discogs “Where Are All the Nice Girls?” page (https://www.discogs.com/master/view/39536)

7 Dicsogs Nick Simpson page (https://www.discogs.com/artist/676115-Nick-Simpson-2)

8 Discogs 23 Jewels page (https://www.discogs.com/artist/913634-23-Jewels)

9 "An Interview with Clive Gregson of Any Trouble (18th November 2014)". Band on the Wall. (https://bandonthewall.org/2014/11/an-interview-with-clive-gregson-of-any-trouble/)

10 “Underrated Classics: Any Trouble” (June 5th, 2012) on Heave Media (http://www.heavemedia.com/2012/06/05/underrated-classics-any-trouble/)

11 Any Trouble: Where Are the Nice Girls? 1997 Compass Records CD booklet