Title: Angels in a Cage: Chapter Eight, Sweet
Rating: R [sexual frustrations, language, drug and alcohol use]

Summary: Chris hangs out with the guys after a long tour. Alyssa has a birthday and some summer fun.




The last thing he wanted in the world currently was to look at the ugly mugs of his band mates. Months of touring across the country in a too small van led to Chris being intimately aware of things about the drummer, bassist, and guitarist. And some time and space apart from them would be very nice, even more so if that time was spent with his girlfriend.

Only she was out of town. Why the hell would she leave town when he was finally home, finally not shoved in a tuna can? Didn’t she understand that he not only wanted her company but needed some loving? He had been so very good on tour, not so much as giving another woman a second look. And now he was home and his was gone. What the hell Susan?

Wandering his empty apartment, feeling it was more foreign to him than the shitty hotels they had all crammed into the past few months. He was a stranger in his own life. Was being a musician really what it was all about? Was it worth losing his world? But did he not feel most at home on a stage, with a guitar in hand?

Grumbling to no one, as no one was present, he shuffled over to the fridge and yanked it open. He expected it to be empty, devoid of anything, except perhaps all of the stolen condiments. Surprisingly enough the bottom shelf of the fridge was filled with bottles of his favorite beer, the other shelves with a smattering of food. Susan had been there, that was the only explanation.

Reaching in for a beer, his fingers brushed a piece of folded up yellow legal paper. Pulling it out of the case along with a bottle, he set it on the counter while he flipped off the cap and took a drag of the cold liquid. Setting the bottle down, he picked up the yellow note and unfolded it.

Chris,

Sorry I’m not here to welcome you home. I had to go with Screaming Trees to a concert in Olympia, issues with the venue. I’ll be back tonight and we can talk about the tour. Relax, put your feet up, remember what it’s like to be home. I’ll see you soon.

Susan

Smiling he set the note back down and headed to do exactly what she suggested. Stopping before he got to the living room, Chris turned and headed back to the bedroom instead. It would be nice to shower before Susan showed up. After all he hadn’t had sex in weeks, as he kept his cock in his pants when she wasn’t around. He was pretty sure he could go all night currently. He really hoped she didn’t have any plans for the morning.

Setting his mostly empty beer on the bathroom counter, Chris stripped out of his clothes and turned on the shower. Draining the rest of the beer bottle, he couldn’t help his growing erection. Perhaps his body had subconsciously come to identify the shower with some sort of sexual gratification as that’s all he had on those days of touring with the band. But no, he would save it up until Susan got home.

God he hoped she was home soon.



Wiggling in her chair, Alyssa tried to mind her parents and stay where she was. Never before had she been this excited for her birthday. It was only her seventh birthday, though this time it was extra special because she was able to share it with her baby sister. True Judith wasn’t even a year old, but the baby seemed to be as smiley and giggly as Alyssa was.

Reaching to tickle her sister, Alyssa’s eyes shot up to her father as he entered the dining room with a cake. Seven flickering candles lit the dim room, Marilyn a step behind with a video camera, singing. Giggling Alyssa shifted on her seat expectantly as Howard set the cake in front of her. Waiting for her parents to cease singing, she took a big breath, leaned forward, and blew out all seven candles.

Smiling Howard plucked out the candles, letting the young girl suck the frosting off of them, “What did you wish for?”

“I can’t tell you, Daddy, or it won’t come true!” she proclaimed.

“What if Daddy can help make it happen?” Marilyn asked, setting the camera aside to help cut the cake.

Alyssa eyed him warily, “I don’t think he can.”

Howard frowned, “That wounds, Alyssa!”

“Well I don’t think you can, Daddy,” she responded seriously.

“Give me a chance.”

Alyssa seemed to consider the request very carefully as the piece of cake with her name on it was placed before her. Taking two bites of the cake and chewing silently, the pensive little girl watched her parents sit in their chairs. She took a swallow of milk and set down her fork.

“I wished that someday I can be as happy in love as you guys,” Alyssa declared.



Heavy boots propped up on a wobbly coffee table, Chris drained the last of the beer in the can. Smiling he accepted the passing bowl, took a hit, and handed it to Andy on his right. Once the bowl had circulated through all of the present men, Andy grinned and pressed play on his tape deck. Shifting on the couch, Chris closed his eyes to allow the high of the drug coupled with Andy’s music take him away.

The tunes floated into the air, keeping any conversation minimal and fairly soft. Chris tended to get quieter when he smoked pot, especially at Andy’s house. He knew the other singer dabbled in other drugs and it wasn’t something Chris was completely opposed to. In fact he was pretty certain the bowl circulating the room had more than just pot in it. Which gave him even more reason to remain quiet, withdrawn, a part of the horrible stained floral wallpaper. Maybe that’s where the term wallflower had come from now that he thought about it. Why the fuck did Andy have floral wallpaper anyways? Was he really more fruity than he lead on? Was he—

“Chris!” Jeff shouted, throwing a pillow at him.

The pillow hit him in the head, his reflexes so out of whack. Shrugging it off, his eyes went around the room. Everyone seemed to be looking at him, wanting him to do or say something. As hard as he thought about it, he had no idea what they expected. But it had to be something since everyone in the fucking room was looking at him. Maybe if he got up and did an Irish jig he would fulfill whatever they wanted of him.

“Uh, what?”

“What did you think?” Andy asked.

Chris scratched his head and reached for his beer can. He could not answer the question; he hadn’t heard a minute of whatever Andy played. It was probably awesome as he tended to like anything Andy did, even the makeup wearing and glittery clothes. But he had no opinion of something he hadn’t heard.

“I wish I could really tell you, but I need to listen to it again to really know,” he declared softly.

Andy grinned, “Goood! You noticed how layered it is! We’ll rewind and play again.”

Leaning back into the armchair, Chris struggled to not sigh in relief. It seemed like he had just barely managed to get past that by the skin of his teeth. Where the hell did that phrase come from? Teeth didn’t have skin and he was fairly certain they never did. He would have to look that up someday, provided he remembered anything after he left Andy’s house. He rarely did.

“Dude!” Matt suddenly burst out, drawing eyes to him. “I bought the most bitchin’ record the other day. It’s by this funky soul band from Ohio. And I—”

“Do you have it with you?” Chris spoke up, for some reason able to focus on Matt.

“Uh... yeah! Yeah! It’s in my car!” he declared.

Chris looked to Andy, who smiled crookedly and shrugged. Given permission, Matt bounded out of the house to find his beloved new record while the others moved about retrieving fresh beers, repacking the bowl, and other such break activities. Remaining stationed in his chair, not entirely sure if his numb feet would function, Chris watched everyone blur by. Had he been more sober he would really wonder what had been in the pot. Of course had he been more sober, he wouldn’t be stuck in the chair, confused. But soon everyone settled back in their places, a beer was pressed into Chris’s hand, and Matt fiddled with the record player.

By the time the bowl made it around to Chris, heavy bass lines and funky beats filled Andy’s small house. Rather than taking a bit, he passed the bowl along, not really caring if anyone else noticed he didn’t smoke that round. There was something about this record that Matt was playing that really struck Chris and he couldn’t quite explain it. He wanted nothing more than to pick up a guitar, fuck with the tuning, and work his way through some of the funky vibes. His fingers itched, tapping out with the rhythm. Matt totally had something with this record and Chris was certainly going to do something about it.

“Matt!” Chris shouted, a bit unnecessarily. “What song is this?”

“Uh....” he reached for the album sleeve. “It’s called.... Fopp.”



Sitting in the sand, Alyssa patted her sandcastle happily. Nearby Marilyn lounged on her towel, idly glancing at the young girl. Near the shoreline, Howard held onto Judith’s hands as she dipped her toes into the cool water of the lake. The toddler giggled with each little splash, digging her feet into the soft sand. Her head tilted back, causing her small bucket hat to fall off and land on Howard’s feet. Shaking his head, he swept the little girl up onto his hip and bent to pick up her hat. She squirmed as he headed back over to the rest of the family, keeping her firmly in his arms as he sat down.

“Daddy?” Alyssa looked up from her sand masterpiece.

“What’s up, button?”

“Can we get ice cream?”

He glanced at Marilyn, “What do you think, Mari?”

“Your call,” she responded, lazily. “If you take one, you take them both.”

Looking at Alyssa and then the squirming girl in his arms, Howard smiled, “You want anything?”

Marilyn pushed her sunglasses up slightly, “No thanks. You pulling this off will be enough for me.”

Keeping the toddler on his hip, he held out his hand for his eldest daughter. Attired only in her bright pink bathing suit, white sandals, and a floppy sun hat, Alyssa skipped alongside her father. She babbled on about how her sandcastle and the stories she had made up for the invisible people that lived in it. By the time they reached the small ice cream shop near the beach, she had barely paused to take a breath.

“Well that’s wonderful, Aly,” Howard commented, leading her into the parlor. “Why don’t you go see what flavors of ice cream they have?”

“Okay, Daddy!” she squealed, making her way up to the glass ice cream cases.

A few minutes later the lawyer and his two young girls were settled at a small table outside the shop. Within moments of sitting down, Judith had ice cream all over her face and Alyssa was near crunching on her sugar cone. Laughing with his girls, Howard dabbed Judith’s face with a paper napkin, which resulted in nothing more than getting it stuck to her face.

“Aly, I’m going to take your sister in to wash off her hands and face. You gonna be okay sitting here without me?” he asked, pushing away from the small table.

“Sure, Daddy,” she responded, crunching on the last of her ice cream cone.

Swinging her legs, she watched people walk by, happily smiling at any who looked at her. She waved at a couple of babies in strollers, causing them to giggle. When a couple passed with a puppy on a leash, Alyssa couldn’t help slipping out of her chair and hurrying to greet the doggie. After petting the pup for awhile and wishing him goodbye, she made her way back to the table to wait for her daddy. However before she could return to the chair, someone else had slipped into it. A brief moment of panic seized through her body, but then she realized that her daddy was nearby and it wouldn’t matter all that much if she was at the table or nearby. She hadn’t lost him nor would he be unable to see her.

Her eyes went to a small group of teenagers walking past. One particular boy stuck out to her, but she didn’t know why. Their eyes met and she felt an overwhelming sense of familiarity, she had to know him, but how? He did not clutter her memories of church, neither with her Mother or with her real family. And he was too old to be at her school. But she knew him, as surely as she knew her daddy or step mom or baby sister. Who was he?

“Aly? Ready to go back?” her daddy interrupted her intense scrutiny of the teen boy who seemed to keep looking back at her.

“Sure, Daddy,” her hand slipped into his. “You think my castle is okay?”

“I’m sure Mom protected it while we were away,” he replied. “But we’ll go check.”

As she headed back to the beach with her daddy and sister, Alyssa stole one last glance at the teen boy. Someday she would figure out who he was, she was certain of it.