Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience. THE CURSE By KATZMAREK(C) Chapter Fourteen --------------------------------------------------- Blue Rembrandt had reinvented themselves since The Curse's abortive first foray into the States. From a fringe artrock act they'd whittled down to four and now played a style that seemed to Mick a cross between Franz Ferdinand, the Kaiser Chiefs and Linkin Park. The leader was a sometime keyboard player and they had a Linn Synth-drum that he hadn't seen since the eighties. There was some rap, some harmonies and a lot of strutting and posturing. The strength of Blue Rembrandt was their singer - a guy blessed with boyish good looks and a good stage presence. He went by the name of 'Flash,' although his real name was Dwight Cooney, a good Hollywood moniker, Mick thought. Dwight was 24, although he looked about 18, and had solid entertainment lineage with both parents in the business. Blue Rembrandt were polished and professional and had a charting single and a video. Their star was rising and they ought to draw good crowds. "Nothing special," declared Anna as they watched a CD of a live concert together. "Hmm," Mick thought, scratching his jaw, "you don't want to play that game, Anna," he said. "Remember, we're practically unknown so we need to establish our own territory. You remember that concert in London? You picked out some guy in the front row and sang to him? You practically made him come in his pants - that's what I want to see." "You want the audience to masturbate?" laughed Michelle. "They can do what they like," smiled Sabra, "but, Mick's right. Anna, you've got to make love to the front row. Do the whole relationship thing with the crowd that I watched you do in Japan. Once you establish that connection, you'll have them eating out of your hand." "Yeah, lots of eye contact. You girls going to do the Madonna/Britney thing after 'You Burn Me'?" Mick asked. "The big pash?" Sabra looked up. "Kind of old hat, Mick?" "Only if it's theatre, Sabra. Folks will see through 'fake' but Michelle and Anna really make it work." "Maybe we ought to throw off our clothes and get it on?" Michelle said, sarcastically. "It's been done," laughed Sabra. "It'll get you in the papers but I think you'll attract the wrong sort of crowd. But, a little affection on stage is a good tool to use. If you can pull it off and it looks genuine, sure, why not?" "Oh, fuck off, you guys," Michelle said, angrily. "It's cheap!" "No, it isn't," Anna said. "We are good friends. It's a natural thing to show love for a friend." "As a spectacle, though? A 'tool' to get some voyeur to come?" "Not at all," Sabra said. "This is about establishing who you are to an audience that, quite frankly, are not there to see you. The dynamics within the band are important. Half the battle is to show the audience how much you care about each other and that you enjoy being together. A lot of bands just walk through the moves and you know they're only there because they're being paid. The intimacy within The Curse is going to make you in the States as much as your songs. Don't be afraid to show it to the audience." "So what do you expect me to do?" "Whatever you feel like doing with your clothes on," Sabra told her. "If you don't feel in the mood, fine, don't force it." "The audience will feed you the energy, Michelle. Once you have them on side, just go with your extincts," Mick suggested. "Exactly," agreed Sabra. "I've seen you in the zone when everything's cooking well," Mick told her. "We're all emotional junkies - the audience are too. We wouldn't be doing this if that wasn't the pay off. We want the crowd to adore The Curse as we adore being up there playing for them. We zone in to one another and let's move the crowd a little sideways?" "Sideways," agreed Anna, "but, not out the door!" "No," Sabra laughed. "I like what I feel among you, guys. A little tension, sure, but respect and love. You guys are just going to knock them dead and I'm not saying that lightly." Later that morning Sabra drove them out to the venue to have a look around. It was a large theatre in Downtown LA called The Dome and Anna took pictures of the sign out front. Mick saw The Curse's name was only just a little smaller than Blue Rembrandt's. STA Management were already exerting some muscle. The afternoon saw them with a slot on the AltRock Channel, an instore, and several radio interviews. Anna and Michelle worked the media, being accepted by Sabra as the 'acceptable face' of The Curse - Mick was too old and Karen too uncomfortable. Junior was to control the sound board - a massive Selecon set up - and lighting was taken care of by a hired crew. Mick took them through the plot while Karen helped Junior and the other girls did the media. Blue Rembrandt's crew were friendly and co-operative and Mick had few problems working with them. If there was any tension between the bands it evidently didn't come from the Blue Rembrandt boys. Mick took up the slack vacated by Freddie. They had no stage manager, now, but Mick knew how to set up after his years of experience with touring. They were given only 20 minutes for a sound check, but, as the opening act, Mick had to accept such shenanigans. Mick understood the politics and came prepared. Junior had all the levels set in double quick time - the advantage of bringing one's own specialist. Then it was off to a nearby restaurant for dinner - paid for by Sony as a welcoming gesture. Sony's American A and R was young, ambitious and anxious to make a name for himself in the business. Within seconds Anna had him eating of her hand and Mick mused, they could expect few problems with their American label. It wasn't 'de rigeur' to arrive too early for the gig. Neither did it make a lot of sense waiting while the audience filed in. It was tough on the stress levels and much better to show a half hour before. The Curse dressed and made up backstage then went through their pre-gig huddle. Sabra had a personal hug and kiss for each of them and urged them to 'just have some fun'. Then Mick lead Michelle onstage to plug up, while Karen slipped onto the stool at the back. The applause was polite and restrained. An announcer welcomed them as, 'comin' all the way from Noo Zeeland.' Mick launched straight in, not leaving the audience time to form any opinions about their 'look.' They did the 'overture' straight out of the Japan concerts - a cut from Led Zeppelin's 'Dazed and Confused.' Karen treated it as a warm up, lustily thrashing around the kit with tons of cymbal crashes. Karen then set up a simple 4 beat for their first number, 'Darkside.' Anna's entry onstage was spectacular and Mick could feel the audience buzzing. Above the droning, distorted guitar she strode to the front and belted out the opening verse. Immediately, she eyeballed some young guy in the front row and frightened the shit out of him. In no time at all, the crowd warmed. 'Darkside' was followed by three breakneck numbers played as rapidly as Karen could manage. They were blitzing the audience with their no holds barred fury as they rattled through number after number. Is was almost with relief that Mick did the little intro part for 'You Burn Me' as he wasn't sure how long he could sustain the pace. Mick looked over to Michelle. She momentarily caught his gaze and flashed him a grin. Her hair had been flying all over the place and locks clung to her face. Her skin glowed with perspiration and she was loving every second. She stepped forward for the chorus and Anna put an arm over her shoulder. "This is my best friend!" Anna announced, before resuming singing. Anna stooped a little and hugged Michelle a little tighter. The fretboard of Michelle's Rickenbacker jutted out in front. Michelle half turned and leaned up against the singer, whose arm twined around her neck. Few in the audience would have any doubt what the words were about. Audiences love drama and soap operas. Anna and Michelle cuddling on stage was pure Sapphic love and the crowd began clapping and hooting. Whether it was a common fantasy for guys to watch two lesbians making out and girls to relate to the close emotional bond, Mick had little doubt they were onto a winner. At the conclusion, Anna fed her tongue clearly into Michelle's mouth and the crowd went wild. Even Mick was taken aback by the sheer eroticism of that kiss. Okay, it was old hat - Russian band Tatou had done it, and there was, of course, Britney Spears and Madonna. But, the crowd could see there was no bullshit about it and the feeling between the two was real. Mick took the band into the single they all hated and the crowd raged along with them. Few of them would've heard the song before but they all jumped around as if it was an old favourite. The gig was working, thought Mick, and he wondered what Blue Rembrandt were going to think. The Curse had seized their audience right in front of their noses and he doubted they'd be too happy about that. The applause rolled behind them as they made their way offstage. Normally, there'd be a twenty minute interval before the headline for no greater purpose than to allow the crowd to forget about the last act. Twenty minutes later, however, the audience were still baying for an encore and Blue Rembrandt weren't going to go on into that. Not that Mick cared a feather - this was simply the business and everyone took their chances and gave it their best shot. Eventually, after 40 minutes, Blue Rembrandt had to go on and try to swing the audience back. Mick listened for a while from the wings and thought the crowd was a lot flatter. He'd no doubt they were going to hear more about that. Sabra was absolutely ecstatic and hugged and kissed everyone again. Then it was quickly off into the van and back to the Valley. Time to change and wind down before the usual review. "Oh, God, oh, fuck!" laughed Sabra, "Fricker's going to be pissed." "Fricker?" asked Mick. "Sam Fricker of Talent Management Incorporated. He handles Blue Rembrandt. He's going to be so pissed off, Mick. You won hands down tonight and made the Blueboys seem like schoolboys." "Tough," he shrugged, "but, nine more gigs with them? It's going to get a little strained." "Aw, they're not stupid. They'll pull something out of the hat. We're all professionals, or should be. If they want to throw a fit, that's their problem. I just love being in this position," she grinned. "Great show, Anna," Mick told her. "You came out locked and loaded." "Mick, I didn't know you could do that punk style so well. How are you going to get through the tour playing that fast? You mind your hands, pal, and don't tear up your fingers." "Tape," Mick said, "and plenty of rest." "The old body not as frisky as it was?" she chuckled. "Not ready for the Zimmer frame yet." "So I've heard. Michelle, how do you control this old sod? I never could." "He's really sweet," Michelle replied, "and reliable!" she added, pointedly. "Reliable? Good Grief! Karen, daughter, you take care of your hands, too. Make sure you limber up and tape your wrists." "I will, mother." "Mother? I just can't get used to it. Just call me Sabra for now, huh?" "Sure, ah, Sabra." "Now, chill out everybody and rest as soon as you're ready. See you all for breakfast, what, about 10, 11?" "Sounds fine," said Mick, grinning. The Curse weren't exactly the talk of the town the next morning, but it was clear, the buzz had started. The LA Times wanted to do a story and sent a reporter around. TV wanted a 2 minute video of the gig and an interview with Anna. Sales of the CD were steadily growing and it was expected to chart within the next day or so. The next evening, Junior had to do a sound check within 10 minutes and Blue Rembrandt's crew were a little less cooperative. Their management asked The Curse to shorten their set - already, the politics was starting to undercut them. Sabra insisted they had a contract and they'll play right up to the last minute. Any fucking about with their set and she'll have STA's lawyers crawling all over them. Blue Rembrandt had to eat crow and accept that The Curse was going to blow them off the stage for night after night for the next nine gigs. Portland, Seattle, Minneapolis, Chicago, Detroit, New York - it was going to be a long drawn out agony for the Blue Rembrandt. Portland was the home of Sleater-Kinney - Seattle - Hole, The Gits, and Nirvana. Minneapolis was where Babes in Toyland were born and Chicago was hometown to both Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam and Billy Corgan of Smashing Pumpkins. Each of these cities had their rock music gentry and heritage and it was up to The Curse to show what these 'foreigners' could do. In advance, Sony's publicity department swamped the local media with news stories about The Curse's progess across the States. A daring shot of Anna strutting her stuff, with the camera angle accentuating her long legs and flowing, blond hair, was blown up and pasted on billboards everywhere. By Chicago, few in America could not have at least heard of the band and the crowds turned out in their thousands to see this latest phenomenon. Finally, they ditched Blue Rembrandt in Philadelphia and made their way south to Atlanta. A brief detour through Texas was planned before the schedualed final concert in Miami. At Atlanta, however, they heard that LA wanted them back and another concert was schedualed for San Francisco. A last blast at The Dome will see their working visas out, but they will be headlining. No more second fiddle and wrangling with another band's management. This was to be The Curse's gig in an American city that had embraced them. From the polite indifference that greeted their first arrival, the LA media besieged them the moment they returned. Both Sony and STA anticipated the response and their hirelings were on hand to guide the band through the pack. The Curse merchandise was roaring out the door and Anna's fashion sense was catching on. Sony were aware their contract was up for renewal following the much anticipated third CD and undertook to look after the group as best they could. Their frenetic shows were taking their toll, however, and all of them suffered from minor tears and strains. Behind the stage lights few in the audience knew what a physical ordeal a concert the likes of The Curse's was for the musicians. STA organised physios for the band and Mick was sent straight off to the doctor to treat the open wounds to his right hand. Michelle's hand was swollen and calloused and her wrist suffered from persistant pain. Only Karen and Anna were in peak physical shape although the lead singer risked ankle problems with her high boots and stage contortions. Choreography seemed to offer a solution, although at the risk of spontaneity. But if she was to trip or fall, tear a ligament or sprain an ankle, the tour was over. There was simply too much money at stake, now, to take pointless risks. San Francisco, with its sizable gay culture, was a risk for the band. Any hint at faking or exploiting gay culture for commercial success and they'd be in trouble. But the gay community appreciated glamour, and there were few who could do glamour the way Anna could on a good day. Anna sashayed and shook, twisted and rolled, and eyeballed a sucker in the front row. The same routine worked as everywhere else and the crowd screamed when Anna kissed her friend, Michelle, full on the lips, and seemingly happy to go on forever. Michelle was getting a little sick of the kiss. What seemed nice at the beginning of the tour was becoming old hat and requiring effort at the end. In any case, something new had to be dreamed up for LA the second, as the audience had all seen it before. Some gag for the last gig was traditional, in any case. This was a good time to try something different or blind side a bandmate. The Curse rearranged the set a little and threw in a couple of older numbers. 'You Burn Me' was anticipated, not so much for the song, but what was to follow after. Michelle leaned with her back against Anna as they sang the last verse. With the final note, Michelle turned her head and Anna pushed her hands under her top and obviously right over her breasts. The crowd gave a collective gasp of shock before breaking out into a tumultuous applause. The kiss was long, sexy, and accompanied by the drumming of feet from the audience. At last, Anna released her and Michelle staggered a little before resuming her usual position. That little stumble was caught by the crowd and most, it seemed, sympathised with the way Michelle was feeling. "Fucking Hell!" Sabra said afterwards, "that was enough to turn me! It's a good while since someone felt me up that way!" "C'mon, Sabra," Mick laughed, "can't imagine you doing without for long. What does your husband do?" "Pleases himself," Sabra said, coldly. "We haven't lived together for over a year." "Eh? You never said!" "Why should I? He keeps shop out there in Anaheim while I do the leg work. He screws his young starlets and leaves me the Hell alone. A perfect marriage!" "Oh, yeah, you convince me!" "I don't give a fuck how well I convince you, Mick. I'm actually relieved I don't have to go through the pretence. Like you, he needs the young things around to prove he's not getting old." "Fuck you, Sabra! You fucking don't know half of it. If you need to know, I've always wanted to settle down in a good, committed relationship with..." "Oh, God, spare me, Mick? You'll take whatever's going and live it up because you can. You play because you love the attention, just like the rest. You've got good genes and a rare natural talent. Women flock to you and why shouldn't you enjoy yourself? Hell, if I was in your position I wouldn't hesitate to get as much action as I could manage." "Not that there's been much of that, lately," he shrugged. "Only because you've been working, sugar. When the pressure's off you'll get bored and go cruising. I know you." "I thought Michelle and me..." "Listen! One thing about you I've always admired - you were never an arsehole to anyone. Women take their chance with you, sure. But, at heart, you're a good person and I'm sure, after The Curse has run its course, you and Michelle might make a go of it. But while the candy is being thrown at you, I can't see you throwing it back." "There's Emily..." "Emily? Tell, me, how much a part of that have you had? It seems to me it's Anna and Michelle's baby with you being allowed to tickle her chin now and again?" "I, I guess I can't argue with that." "I'm sorry, Mick, but you'll always be her father. You look at Karen? She's never been a part of your life until a couple of years ago and look at the two of you now? A real father and daughter scene." "What about you and her?" "Mick, I regret every day I didn't see that girl growing up. She's just unbelievable! A real credit to our genetic potential, eh, Mick?" "Yeah, sure, Sabby." "Sabby? That takes me back, Mick!" "Yeah?" "Don't get any ideas," she smiled, "I know you only too well!" "I guess some things are best left to memories!" "Oh, yeah, with our rose coloured spectacles in place!" Sabra was staying the night and she'd a room in an annex at the back of the rambling property. Mick retired around three. The place was quiet as everyone, except Mick and Sabra, disappeared with their partners. Mick was dozing. He'd tried reading for a while but his eyes lost their focus. After the excitement of the gig it was difficult to calm down. In years gone past he would've smoked a joint but he'd got out of the habit. He woke suddenly to the door inching open. He looked at the clock and found it was 6am. That time was beyond unsocial. He didn't realise such a hour existed unless he was still partying. "Mick?" He heard a woman's voice. "Ah, yeah?" "It's Sabra. Can't sleep, I..." "C'mon in," he said, "I was just reading." "With the light off?" she chuckled. "Uh, yeah, well, I was!" Sabra came and sat on the bed. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and found she was dressed in a black nightie - the lacey top revealing a great deal of her ample cleavage. "I, I have a confession," she said. Her voice sounded soft and lacking in confidence. Mick hadn't heard that tone in her for a long, long time. "I never really got over you, y'know? Twenty years - uh, you bring back some sweet memories." "Sabra? I, never forgot you, either!" "Yeah? That was the problem, Mick. Broke my heart to have to do what I did. I think I got pregnant deliberately, y'know? Perhaps I thought I might hold on a little longer? Oh, God, I feel so foolish." "Why?" "Because I never finished it properly. I'm still in love with you. I thought I'd forget, but, fuck it, you stroll back into my life and it's just the same - just the same old feelings driving me crazy." "We were a good team, Sabby..." "Don't call me that!" she snapped. "My heart jumps right out of my chest when you say that. You're a slut, Mick, until this whole Curse thing blows over." "Actually," Mick replied, "I think I'm behaving myself real well." "For now," she commented. "But, what happens when some little fox shakes her boobies at you?" "Huh, I don't know. You going to get in?" He nodded to the left side of the double bed. "Old time's sake, Mick?" she smiled. "No promises? No commitment?" "Whatever you like," he grinned back. "Whatever I like?" she acknowledged, before squeezing in next to him. Mick draped his arm over her shoulders and she rested her head against his. "This is our secret, Mick? I don't want this upsetting the band." "Sure!" "Especially Michelle. She thinks the world of you and I don't want her knowing what a whore you are." "Our daughter?" "Especially Karen! You hurt her and I won't forgive you." "Isn't it natural to want your divorced parents to get back together?" "We're not getting back together, Mick. No way do I want that grief. We're going to have a nice little cuddle, that's all!" "Sure, Sabra, sure!" Karen had been returning after raiding the fridge when she heard voices coming from Mick's room. She paused, and knew immediately who was in with her father. Racing off, she couldn't wait to tell Junior of the news. Two second's later Mick and Sabra were grappling in an embrace that felt oh so familiar. It happened so quickly they each took each other by surprise. Mick remembered turning and smiling into her face and little else following that. He figured they tripped a few memories and just ran with the script. He remembered her blowing him and straddling his face so he could return the favour. He remembered Sabra rising above him as she impaled herself and sank back with a sigh. Most of all, he remembered tossing her on her back as if she was a bag of spuds. She was smiling with surprise and anticipation and he held off till she begged him to fuck her hard. She was soft and supple and engaged him with enthusiasm. Her long nails dug into his arse and she heaved off the bed at him, amid growls and gasps. She was mindless of the noise and Mick couldn't have cared less. He told himself everyone would be sleeping and, if he thought the band would be listening in, it was a fleeting thought. "OH GOD!" she howled towards the last, "UH, MICK!" Next door, Karen had her arm around Junior and they both grinned at each other, sniggering. They'd both finished their lovemaking for the night and Junior was sharing a Marlboro with his wife. "I hope I don't sound like that," she whispered. "Shit, I hope they finish soon," chuckled Junior, "or we're not going to get any sleep." Further down the hall Michelle woke with a start. Beside her, Anna opened her eyes and listened carefully for a while. "Must be Junior and Karen," Anna told her friend. "I guess!" said Michelle, before settling back down. She listened carefully until the noises died down. She wasn't sure she was hearing Karen's voice and was puzzled. Then Emily woke and it was time for her feed. ------------------------------------------------- KATZMAREK(c)