I take a deep breath and let my soul speak. “I want to be able to dedicate my album to Pia. I want to sing all these love songs to her. I want to perform ‘What I Want’with her on stage and for everyone to know we wrote that about women who love women. I want to sing that song at the Grammys and kiss her at the end. I want to bring our love out of the shadows and into the spotlight. I want to be brave enough to do that. I want everyone to know I love her and…”
I stop then because I was about to say “and she loves me” but I don’t have any authority to say so. Even if I was convinced of it during our week together when I was recovering. Even if the postcards she sends me from each of her tour destinations feel like love notes. Even if I feel it during every one of our sporadic and rushed but precious,preciouslate-night phone calls. She still hasn’t said it.
But also, neither have I.
Clarence downs the last of his coffee and tosses it in the waste bin near the machine. “Sounds to me like what you want matters a whole lot.”
I open my mouth to argue with him, but something stops me.
Whatever it is, I choose to listen to it.
RHYTHM & NEWS
Saturday, December 22, 1979
BATTLE OF THE BANGS: Evergreene Not So Evergreen: Is This the End of Rock’n’roll’s Greatest Rivalry?
Cries could be heard all over the country–and world–when it was announced this week that Evergreene has now broken up. While many saw it coming, there was still shock and dismay that the English folk rock band that took the global stage by storm will no longer perform or record together. The announcement was made by the band’s manager, Kevin Briggs, but many of the band members have added their own comments.
Stephan Greene, who was last seen in his hometown, Windsor, England, told aDaily Mailjournalist that we haven’t seen the last of him, but that right now he has to focus on being a father to his son, Lewis, who was born in secret in November. His brother remains behind bars in Los Angeles but sent a letter toThe New York Postsaying he knew the band wouldn’t last without him. Clarence Oldman refused to comment on the demise of Evergreene but has been seen enjoying himself considerably in live music venues in New York, San Francisco, and LA in the last few weeks alone. George Redfern is the only band member who hasn’t been seen since the announcement, and that is reportedly because he has finally committed to rehab, or as Stephan Greene told theDaily Mail, “Maybe he has finally drunk himself to death”.
Rhythm & Newshas made a number of attempts to get a comment from members of Femme Fatale, but none has been forthcoming. This is no surprise, as they have been busy crisscrossing the country on their tour, but they do have a break coming up for Christmas and New Year celebrations.
Unfortunately, nobody from either band was able to confirm the rampant rumors that Pia Lindberg and Cassie Everard will perform together at next February’s Grammy Awards. It’s almost certain that they will be nominated for Best Single, but fans are making it clear that they don’t care about the award; they simply want to see Lindberg and Everard on stage together. Surely, that would be medicine for heartbroken Evergreene fans and a poignant way to mark the end of rock’n’roll’s greatest rivalry?
CHAPTER 39
PIA
“Jesus, woman,” Jon says and slams his hand on top of mine, stopping my tapping fingers. “Take a breath.”
“You take a breath,” I say across the passenger seat, but then immediately, I switch my gaze to the window, watching South Los Angeles fly by. We’re moving at a speed you can’t take for granted in this city at this time of day, but it’s still too slow. Just like the last three weeks have been way too fucking long. “Tell me why I agreed to share a car with you?”
“Because you like my sparkling company and pretty blue eyes.”
I itch to tell him that his blue eyes are nothing compared to Cassie’s. And as much as I love him, I’d swap an hour with Cassie for a lifetime in his presence.
“You’ll be there soon,” Jon says, and he squeezes my fingers. “Stay cool.”
I groan, which is considerably better than thumping him across the chin – what I actually want to do. “You don’t know what it’s like,” I say, and it feels like a confession.
“Maybe not,” he says distantly. I turn back to him. He’s also staring out of the window now.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Jon. I’m a fucking bitch, and I can’t believe I only have ten days with her, and I’m so angry about that but also so fucking happy that I get that much. And I am so fed up of feeling all these different, conflicting fucking feelings.”
I ball my hands into fists and slam them down on my legs.
Jon’s response is a light chuckle and a sympathetic smile. At least I think it’s sympathetic. “See, this is why sobriety is overrated.All those feelings…” He pulls a hipflask out of the inner pocket of his leather jacket. “Nasty business.”
I could grab the flask out of his hands. I could take a swig and let the burn wake me up then numb me down. I could switch off some of the noise in my mind and the pain in my heart.
But I don’t.
“I just can’t fucking wait to see her,” I say.
“I know,” he says and nods towards the window screen. “Nearly there.”
“What do I do if it’s not enough?” I ask him, referring to the ten days I have with Cassie. At least, I think that’s what I’m referring to.
