It was 11 p.m. on a hot Hollywood summer night. This was the time of night when the city was starting to really come alive. The craziness on the Boulevard was jumping and it was the girls’ favorite time of the night. But instead of living the scene, they were in the Hollywood Hills trying to get a whole bunch of shit out of a house where they stayed with their best friend, the lead singer of their band Spitfire.
Three women snuck into the house, trying to retrieve everything their friend needed before they got the hell out of California. “Shit, Mindy, get the guitar!” called the bass player for the hundredth time. “I swear if Jimmy sees us getting Addison’s shit, he’s going to go postal!” Her jet-black short hair was spiked in the front and the tips were dyed blue. Her dark makeup was smudged from rubbing her hands over her face when Addison called earlier today from the hospital. Her tall frame threw the luggage into the 1980 van easily, since she was the one who really worked out in the group.
Mindy ran into the house, then back to the van where she put a very expensive guitar in its box, before it got damaged. They tucked it carefully into the back away from the shit Lynn was throwing in in a hurry.
Jimmy was passed out across the street in his Fiero, drinking himself into a stupor once again after he’d beat the hell out of Addison. She must have found him with another woman, and told him, once again, she was leaving his ass. But it’s hard to get a divorce from the James Richardson the lead singer of Death Ever After. And even harder when his manager is the infamous Nickels, who can make anything go away for the band.
“I’m trying, Lynn, cut me some slack!” Mindy hissed back at her. “Who knew marrying a rock god could lead to so much trouble!” sighed the little brunette. Her brown doe-like eyes looked over to Lynn and they both frowned.
Margie shut the front door and locked it. They needed everything to look normal, for if or when Jimmy tried to get into the house tomorrow to look for Addison. “I just got a call from Addie at the hospital, she’s able to leave now. I guess he broke her wrist again." She frowned.
"Damn it Jimmy... let’s get her, and then get our asses the hell out of here,” Lynn growled.
The girls quietly piled into the van, and headed out to get their best friend from the emergency room where her husband had put her earlier that evening. “Don’t forget Tia. Addie will kill us if we forget her!” Mindy told Lynn, who was driving at the moment.
“So did she tell you, Margie, just where the hell we’re going, to escape fortune, fame, and the long arm of Jimmy?” Lynn asked.
Margie sat back with her glasses on, texting on the phone. “It seems, girls, we’re heading to Cleveland, Ohio,” she told the group.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” yelled Lynn. “How the hell are we going to get laid in Cleveland fucking Ohio?” she barked out.
“There are many other things that we need to get through first, before you’re worried about getting laid, Lynn. Addison’s just got out of the hospital. We need to get her away from Jimmy for good this time,” Margie hissed.
Lynn’s head fell back against the seat as she drove. She pulled out a smoke and lit it. “Yeah, well, the last time would have worked if Mindy could keep her damn legs and mouth shut around Dax.”
They heard Mindy gasp from the back of the van. “That’s so not fair! I didn’t think he would tell him. He told me it was an accident, it just slipped out!” she said, sitting back and pouting.
“Yeah, I know, it slipped out, while he slipped his ass in… Too late to do anything about it now. Let’s get Tia, and then swing by to pick up Ad. If we play our cards right, Jimmy will never know that we’ve gone until he sobers up, and if we’re lucky that will be about four tomorrow afternoon.” Lynn scowled.