Categories > Celebrities > Aerosmith > Not the First Time
Who ARE You?
0 reviews(Steven's POV) Shock, disbelief, pain... all of which our favored showman is feeling. [Fiction]
0Unrated
"Have you lost your damn mind? Don't answer that. And don't come back."
Joe's low voice growled in Steven's ear, then he heard a click as the guitarist hung up.
Steven felt like his face was permanately frozen in 'total indignation phase'. How could Joe do this to him? Jerk.
For lack of a better word.
Another frightening sign; he was never, ever lost for words! Sometimes he screwed with people's fragile minds using his in depth sayings, but most of the time he either made them laugh for twenty minutes or annoyed them until they were throwing chairs from across the room at him.
And that was the way Steven liked it.
Back to the matter at hand Steven. He ordered himself and got to his feet with surprisingly nimble grace for a sixty-three year old man who did drugs in his younger years. Steven walked bare-footed down the dock of Lake Sunapee. The lake was beautiful; it was everything that embodied home to him. Besides Erin, Liv, Mia, Chelsea, Taj and all them. He stood at the end of the slightly-quaking dock, his toes curled over the edge. Potted flowers decorated the corners of the dock and trees crested the opposite bank of the lake.
Ah, the smell of nature. Smells like green.
He studied the lazily rippling dark blue water beneath him. Joe had pretty much thrown him out of Aerosmith in the heated phone call. Steven wasn't sure if the rest of the band had given their consent or if Joe had just exploded. There was no doubt in Steven's mind that Joe had meant it. The other half of the Toxic Twins had thrown Steven into the world of American Idol and lone-singer-ism. A frontman without a named band could easily make it with his voice alone and just hire people to play the music he wrote. But it just didn't feel the same.
Even so, Steven was positive he could write a single without help from Joe-- or even a professional. He had done it before; all by himself with the rest of the band only tossing in ideas which he could use or ignore. Hell, he could write a hit single.
Confident, Steven wheeled around and strode back towards his house.
Joe won't see me crawling back. If they want me gone, that's their problem. I can easily be the star of my own show.
"Hey Taj!" He called, entering the good ole country house and looking around for his visiting son. Taj was on a vacation from college.
"Hi Dad." Taj's head appeared around the staircase and Steven noted his earbuds still in.
"Working on homework?" Steven asked, rummaging around in the cupboards.
Taj grimaced from the staircase. "You know it. It never ends!" His head disappeared back upstairs and Steven grinned after him, shaking his head a little.
God, every time I talk to him, I feel so old. Steven stretched his hand into the very back of the cupboard and managed to grab the jar of peanut butter.
And then I get thirteen year old girls tweeting me about how sexy I am and I feel nineteen again.
In the pit of Steven's being, beneath all the cockiness and bring-it-on-ness and I'm-sexy-and-we-all-know-it-but-no-one-can-have-me-haha-ness, and hidden in the shadow of his celebrity and rock star status, was Steven's heart; were he kept all things dear to him. In his heart, Steven knew something wasn't right without Joe Perry and Aerosmith.
Hey there:
WOOOOOOO. I HAVE COMPLETED IT. ANDDDD... it's really short. The chapter, I mean. Dang. Well, you know the deal, this is fiction and all that.
Joe's low voice growled in Steven's ear, then he heard a click as the guitarist hung up.
Steven felt like his face was permanately frozen in 'total indignation phase'. How could Joe do this to him? Jerk.
For lack of a better word.
Another frightening sign; he was never, ever lost for words! Sometimes he screwed with people's fragile minds using his in depth sayings, but most of the time he either made them laugh for twenty minutes or annoyed them until they were throwing chairs from across the room at him.
And that was the way Steven liked it.
Back to the matter at hand Steven. He ordered himself and got to his feet with surprisingly nimble grace for a sixty-three year old man who did drugs in his younger years. Steven walked bare-footed down the dock of Lake Sunapee. The lake was beautiful; it was everything that embodied home to him. Besides Erin, Liv, Mia, Chelsea, Taj and all them. He stood at the end of the slightly-quaking dock, his toes curled over the edge. Potted flowers decorated the corners of the dock and trees crested the opposite bank of the lake.
Ah, the smell of nature. Smells like green.
He studied the lazily rippling dark blue water beneath him. Joe had pretty much thrown him out of Aerosmith in the heated phone call. Steven wasn't sure if the rest of the band had given their consent or if Joe had just exploded. There was no doubt in Steven's mind that Joe had meant it. The other half of the Toxic Twins had thrown Steven into the world of American Idol and lone-singer-ism. A frontman without a named band could easily make it with his voice alone and just hire people to play the music he wrote. But it just didn't feel the same.
Even so, Steven was positive he could write a single without help from Joe-- or even a professional. He had done it before; all by himself with the rest of the band only tossing in ideas which he could use or ignore. Hell, he could write a hit single.
Confident, Steven wheeled around and strode back towards his house.
Joe won't see me crawling back. If they want me gone, that's their problem. I can easily be the star of my own show.
"Hey Taj!" He called, entering the good ole country house and looking around for his visiting son. Taj was on a vacation from college.
"Hi Dad." Taj's head appeared around the staircase and Steven noted his earbuds still in.
"Working on homework?" Steven asked, rummaging around in the cupboards.
Taj grimaced from the staircase. "You know it. It never ends!" His head disappeared back upstairs and Steven grinned after him, shaking his head a little.
God, every time I talk to him, I feel so old. Steven stretched his hand into the very back of the cupboard and managed to grab the jar of peanut butter.
And then I get thirteen year old girls tweeting me about how sexy I am and I feel nineteen again.
In the pit of Steven's being, beneath all the cockiness and bring-it-on-ness and I'm-sexy-and-we-all-know-it-but-no-one-can-have-me-haha-ness, and hidden in the shadow of his celebrity and rock star status, was Steven's heart; were he kept all things dear to him. In his heart, Steven knew something wasn't right without Joe Perry and Aerosmith.
Hey there:
WOOOOOOO. I HAVE COMPLETED IT. ANDDDD... it's really short. The chapter, I mean. Dang. Well, you know the deal, this is fiction and all that.
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