Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
I gave him an hour before I went and checked on him, but I just got told to ‘fuck off’ from behind his locked door.
I left him to it and headed back to my bed and the six needy young ladies that couldn’t get enough of me, or of each other.
I woke to the sound of Len shouting. Fuck knows how many hours later.
“Get up, get dressed, and get out!” he shouted.
Without opening my eyes, I reached down to scratch my balls but instead came into contact with a head full of long, silky hair. I dragged my fingers through it and with my other hand, I guided my semi-hard dick into the mouth that belonged to the hair.
“Marley, get her lips off your dick and get the fuck in the shower. It’s nearly nine o’clock, and Jimmie lands in half an hour. I want you up and looking lively when I get back from the airport.”
“Fuck off, Len … Oh yeah, just like that baby, don’t stop.” I told the girl whose face I was fucking. I had no idea which one of them it was because I had yet to open my eyes.
I heard Len move around the bedroom. “Up, ladies. Get up and get out, else I’m calling Milo in to throw you out and believe me, you don’t want that.”
I heard the girls groan and complain, but I still didn’t open my eyes.
The mouth that my dick was inside continued to suck and my hips continued to thrust. A fingertip slid along the seam under my balls and travelled along until it started to circle my arsehole before slowly pushing its way inside.
I had women do it to me before, and I knew that if she hit the right spot, I’d be done in seconds.
Bingo.
My balls tightened and my hips thrust forward.
“Marley!” My brother shouted right in my ear. I opened my eyes and watched, horrified as he grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled her mouth off my dick. Jizz shot out of me and hit the girl in the face, along with Len’s nice navy blue Pierre Cardin polo shirt.
“What the fuck, Marls? What the… You dirty bastard. You dirty fucking bastard,” Lennon ranted. “You spunked all over me. I actually have your spunk on me, Marley,” he whined.
“Chill the fuck out, dude. What're a few bodily fluids between brothers? We both slid out the same vagina, remember.”
Lens eyebrows raised and his mouth hung open. He was finally silent for a few seconds.
“What the fuck has that gotta do with anything?” His voice was starting to sound all girly and high-pitched. I ignored him.
I could see that the girl that had just given me a knee trembler was Lori. She looked from my dick to Lens T-shirt with wide, blue eyes. Scooping my spunk off her cheek with the back of her finger, she proceeded to suck it into her mouth.
“Good girl,” I praised her with a smile and leaned forward to kiss her. Len lifted her up and stood her on her feet.
“Good girl? Good fucking girl?” Len continued to shout, his face red—purple, almost. I thought he was a bit pissed off … just a bit.
“You, get your clothes on,” he shouted at Lori. “And you, you dirty fucker. Go and get in the fucking shower before I do you some damage.”
“Bye, Marley. Thanks for a great night,” Lori said as she was about to head out my bedroom door.
“Anytime, babe. Don’t forget, there’ll be six tickets at the door for Saturday night under the name of Cindy. They’ll get you backstage passes too, so I’ll see you then.”
“Cool. Tell Maca I said bye.”
Shit!
Maca!
My eyes met my brothers, which were looking a bit like they were about to bulge out of his head.
“Please tell me he’s not in there with six birds too?” Len asked through gritted teeth.
“No, he’s on his own.”
“Well, thank fuck for that.”
“He just had three grams of coke and two spliffs for company.”
Lennon made a sort of choking noise, but I didn’t look at his face. I was too busy jumping off the bed and pulling on a pair of boxers to watch his reaction.
I banged on Maca’s door. Nothing. I tried the handle, but it was still locked.
“Maca, c’mon, get up,” I shouted, then continued banging with my fist.
“Where’s Milo?” I called to Len over my shoulder.
“In his room I s’pose. Why?”
“We need to get this door open. He was a fucking mess last night. I checked on him once, but forgot to check back,” I explained.
Len was already on the phone, calling down to Milo’s room. I continued to bang on the door, then used my shoulder to try and break my way in, but it didn’t budge.
I looked around for something to unscrew the handle with and took in the empty bottles when another realisation dawned on me.
“Oh fuck, Len.”
“What?”
“I think he might have a bottle of Jack in there with him as well.”
“For fuck’s sake, Marls.” He moved and in an instant, he was beside me.
“After three,” he ordered. We counted, then threw our shoulders against the door, but we didn’t stand a chance against the heavy hotel, standard fire door.
There was a knock and Len moved to let Milo into the room. He promptly pulled a small leather case from his pocket and opened it up to reveal a set of alum keys and small screwdrivers. He had the door unlocked in less than a minute. Milo and Len rushed in, but like a coward, I hung back.
I’ve never told anybody this, but in that moment, I knew. Don’t ask me how, but I just knew that one day, we would lose Maca.
“For fuck’s sake,” I heard Len say. Seemed to be his favourite phrase for the day.
“Get him up, Mi. Marls, get in here.”
“Fucking hell,” was the first thing I said as the stench of vomit hit me.
Maca was, luckily, face down in his own puke, lying across the bed.
“Is he breathing?” my voice sounded as terrified as I felt.
“Yeah,” Milo grunted. “Go and put the shower on. You can hold him up in there.”
I headed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. It was one of those that sits over the bath, so no room for both of us.
Milo dragged him in with his back against his chest as he held him under his armpits, lifting him and lying him in the bath. I took the showerhead off the slide rail it was on and sprayed water over Maca’s head, face, and chest, washing the puke away. He opened one eye.
“Morning, Princess. Wakey, wakey, rise and shine. Don’t you know it’s breakfast time?” I repeated the greeting my mum had woken us up with all our lives.
“Fuck off, Marls,” he croaked out.
“Get showered, Maca. Get some coffee and some food inside ya. You’ve got a photo shoot in an hour and then a live to air interview.
You go straight from that to the venue for a practice and a run through with the light techs,” Lennon barked at him.
Maca proceeded to lean forward and throw up into his own crotch.
“Dude,” I shouted as the smell hit me. “You have puke in your pubes. Not a good look man. Not. A. Good. Look.”
Milo shook his head as he left the bathroom. Len paced the confined space, raking his fingers through his dark hair while Maca continued to dry-heave. He and Maca were gonna have one fucked up day, that was for sure.
The photo shoot was being done in Lennon’s room and by the time I got Maca organised, we were twenty minutes late. Billy, Tom, the photographer, and two make-up artists, as well as a hairdresser, were already there, waiting impatiently.
Len had gone off to the airport to collect Jim, which was probably a good thing. It meant he didn’t get to witness our lead singer vomiting into a waste paper bin while having his make-up done.
We were only five minutes into the shoot when Maca had to vomit again.
He looked like shit and probably felt worse.
The snapper followed him into the bathroom and I panicked, afraid that he was going to call off the shoot.
Instead, he pulled out a bag of coke and offered him some to help liven him up.
After borrowing Len’s toothbrush and downing a glass of water, along with a line up each nostril, we got our singer back. He still looked like shit, but at least he could keep his eyes open.
By the time the photographer wrapped things up, the TV crew was there, along with the two presenters, waiting to interview us for some US afternoon chat show.
The presenters were called Gary and Lisa, who had a talk with us first about the way they’d like the interview to go.
I personally didn’t give a fuck what they asked, but the label and Len had pretty strict guidelines, and what happened in Europe the previous summer was a definite off-limits subject for any interviews.
Luckily, Len got back before we went to air and made it clear that that topic would not be discussed.
Maca had spent most of the previous half hour in the toilet, and I had a feeling that he bought the rest of the coke the photographer had from him.
I caught Len turning to look at me, eyes wide and once again, looking like they were about to bulge out of his head. He twitched his nose like he was sniffing the air, just as the smell hit me.
“Fuck!” Billy and I said in unison.
I shook my head at Len and headed into his bedroom, banging on the door of the bathroom. Maca opened it and the smell of weed almost knocked me down. He stood in the doorway with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“What the fuck, Maca? The people are here for this interview. You seriously need to get your shit together.” Even my patience was wearing thin at that point. Len must’ve been about to have a coronary, and if he’d seen Maca’s glassy-eyed expression, he probably would have.
I sprayed some of Lennon’s aftershave over Maca and lead him back out to the living area of the suite where everyone was set up and waiting for us.
We were directed to sit on the sofa; Tom on one end, Billy the other, me and Maca in the middle.
The interviewers started by introducing the show and talking through the day’s topics. The camera turned to us as they announced that we would be interviewed shortly.
The whole thing was a pain as we had to sit quietly while they talked to the camera, but were allowed to speak when the show cut and ran a pre-recorded piece to air.