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The Redhead of the Rocksthis story is part of the FanClub (fm:one-on-one, 3978 words)

Author: j rydher Picture in profile
Added: Dec 19 2006Views / Reads: 2187 / 1801 [82%]Story vote: 9.50 (8 votes)
An escape to the islands turns into an erotic and surprising week for a washed up musician.
 


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I stood in the dark, my left hand on the neck of my guitar, my right hand resting at my side -- pick in hand. I watched as the emcee, a DJ at a local radio station, walked towards the mike. It had been a long time since I had graced the stage at Madison Square Garden. It was over 20 years ago that U2 opened for my band, Leadline. Now I was opening for them. "Ladies and gentleman, welcome back to Madison Square Garden, James Gooooold."

A smattering of applause echoed through the near empty Garden. It would be more than an hour until Bono and the boys took the stage. Most people kept talking, were milling about in the hallway, or were waiting in line at the concession stands. As the spotlight glared on me, I took a deep breath and started to play. I began with "Life Without Reason", our only #1 hit. Of course it's difficult to make hits when your band self destructs and vanishes into oblivion after only 2 years in the spotlight. Egos, [censored], poor management, you name it, we had it. Unlike many of bands in the VH1 "Behind the Music" specials, we never rebounded.

I fell into a deep depression, which was mixed with bouts of anxiety and self-loathing. I spent the last 15 years working one crappy job after another. I barely made my rent. I had stopped writing music. As a matter of fact I hardly even played any more. Occasionally I would scrape together some cash by giving music lessons to 10 year olds who though they were the next John Mayer. I had just about hit rock bottom ...

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