Title: Angels in a Cage: Chapter Thirteen, Party!
Rating: R [language, alcohol use]

Summary: Alyssa has growing pains. Chris has wife pains.





Sitting on a dirty couch in Kim’s living room, Chris scratched his balls and took a long draught from the beer bottle in his hand. While he was glad to be back in Seattle, be back home, and no longer touring and opening for bands he would rather not associate with, he also had no desire to go home to his own home. He was fairly certain that Susan had likely taken over the apartment. He could already picture doilies on the back of his couch... or maybe she had replaced his couch with something floral. That alone was cause for another drink.

“So, dude,” Kim slipped the empty bottle out of Chris’s hand and replaced it with a cold one before sitting next to him, “when you planning on going home to the missus?”

“Can I just stay here?”

“Sure,” the burly man shrugged his shoulders. “But don’t you want some pussy after abstaining for so long?”

Chris snorted, “With Susan?”

“She is your wife. You did marry that pussy,” Kim declared.

“Might as well be a monk. I don’t think I could get it u—”

A knock at the door interrupted Chris’s words. While normally he would have ignored it to chastise Chris about his lack of sex drive, Kim got to his feet, recognizing the silhouette in the door in the window. With a smirk, he threw open the door and stepped to the side, ushering the guest in with a flourish.

Chris sat straight up, “Susan, what are you d—”

“Come on,” she declared. “We’re going home.”

“But—”

“Chris,” she warned.

He quickly set the beer on the table, glanced at Kim, and joined his wife. She remained stoically silent as they headed to her car. Knowing better than to ask for the keys to drive, Chris headed directly to the passenger side and waited for Susan to unlock the doors. She quickly jumped behind the wheel, nearly squealed out of Kim’s driveway.

When she did not speak for the first few miles, Chris nearly believed that he was going to get away with not being screeched at for not coming directly home. He knew he couldn’t stay hidden from her in Seattle. After all Susan was the band’s manager, so she always knew where they were. But he had hoped on a couple more hours of... well he wouldn’t really call spending time with Kim peaceful and solitary, but it beat spending it with Susan. He really couldn’t explain why he was so unhappy with his wife... or maybe he was really unhappy with himself. It was hard to tell. But then the silence was broken and he thought he knew.

“What the fuck, Chris? You come home from tour and go and fucking hide in the guitarist’s living room? What. The. Fuck.”

“Look, Suze, I’m sorry. I just didn’t think—”

“That’s your problem, Chris. You don’t think. Ever. If you did then we wouldn’t be having any problems, now would we?” she snapped, flicking the blinker on so quickly Chris thought she was going to snap the handle off.

“What did I... what did I do wrong?” he asked meekly.

Her eyes flashed to his and she practically snarled at him, “Just think about it, Cornell. Just think about it for one god damned minute.”

He thought about it. For more than a minute, for more than an hour, for the rest of the day. Upon arriving to their house, Susan stalked inside, not speaking again to him. Chris was certainly all right with that, especially he was supposed to be figuring out what he did wrong. Instead he closed himself in the spare bedroom, one he was certain he was in trouble for not filling with baby stuff or something, picked up his guitar and began to pluck at it.

Fuck her for being mad at him. He was a grown man. He could do what he wanted.

As long as she didn’t know.



The school year was over and Alyssa was ever excited to be going to her first pool party of the season. Becca had pretty much been quiet the rest of the year, something she thought had to do with her daddy, but never asked. That meant that Alyssa was no longer completely ostracized by her classmates, evidenced by the fact she was invited to the swimming party. Kneeling in front of her dresser, she pulled clothes out of the bottom drawer, searching for her bathing suit. Finally finding the dark red one piece, she pulled it out triumphantly. Jumping up, Alyssa quickly peeled off her clothes, intending to wear her swimsuit underneath everything to the party.

Stepping into the leg holes, she pulled it up, frowning slightly as it didn’t seem to stretch enough over her hips. That would likely mean that the bottom would crawl up her butt a lot, but that was manageable, she thought. Working it around her butt, Alyssa continued to pull it up, slipping her arms through the armholes. As she straightened out her arms which forced the straps up to her shoulders, she gasped. Looking down didn’t seem to quite solidify it in her mind and she rushed over to her full-length mirror.

The front of the bathing suit did not even come near to covering her nipples.

What was she going to do? She couldn’t wear a shirt over her suit. The other kids would tease her mercifully. But she clearly could not wear the suit as it was. She was doomed, doomed, doomed. She would have to not go to the party.

“Aly? You about ready to go?” Marilyn knocked on the door.

“No!” Alyssa called back. “I’m not going!”

Not even hesitating, her stepmother opened the door and slipped inside. Her eyes went to Alyssa who quickly covered her mostly exposed breasts with her hands. Realization quickly answered the unasked question. They should have gone shopping for a new bathing suit earlier; she should have thought of it before.

“Of course you’re going. You’ve been looking forward to this all week,” Marilyn stated. “We’re just going to have to get you a swimsuit before we go to the party.”

“But—”

“Nope. Get dressed. We’re going to go find you a new suit. And you’re going to knock the socks off of everyone at the pool,” she smiled. “Hurry now, Aly.”

An hour later, Alyssa was in the dressing room at the nearest department, a stack of bathing suits piled on the seat. Marilyn had even talked her into grabbing a couple of two piece suits, not that Alyssa thought they would look all that good on her. Suit after suit she tried on over her panties as she had been told to do. And not a single one seemed to be it. She didn’t like the colors when she pulled them on or the cut on the leg. About to give up, she whined to her stepmother who encouraged her to try on one of the two piece suits.

Sighing she pulled on a black two piece. The bottom fit smoothly over her panties, covering just like the cotton garment did. Picking up the top, she turned it over in her hands first, trying to see how it fastened. With that figured out, Alyssa pulled the top on, adjusting her small breasts behind the fabric. Turning towards the mirror, she froze. Not only did this bathing suit look all right on her, but she actually thought she looked a bit older. She could probably pass for at least fourteen in this swimsuit.

“Aly?” Marilyn called when she didn’t hear anything inside for a moment. “Everything okay?”

She pulled the door open, “What do you think?”

Motioning the girl out, she tried to hide her initial emotional reaction. While the girl was not her biological daughter, she loved her just like one. And the bathing suit she modelled now not only made her proud at the girl’s budding beauty, but worried her in the same. The girl was absolutely stunning. It was hard to believe she was still just a girl.

“I think you look lovely,” Marilyn finally answered. “And I think your father is going to kill us if we buy that suit.”

“What? Why?”

“Because he’s going to have to start fighting off the boys this summer,” she grinned. “Get changed back into your clothes and we’ll go find sandals and a cover up for it too.”

“Really?”

“Really. Now hurry up. We don’t have much time.”



It was probably the most fucked up thing that they had come up with on tour. He really didn’t even remember how it had started, but now it was a very intense competition. Okay it was his fault. He had been stoned out of his mind, joking with Eddie backstage, and before he knew it, he was drinking the fucking shit that had been pumped out of one of the guy’s stomach. The next night Eddie was out there, trying to drink more than he had the previous night.

And that was precisely the reason Chris was certain his stomach was eating itself inside out. He could not keep this up the entire tour. Fuck, he couldn’t keep this up the rest of the week. One more night and he was done. Eddie could compete with the other fucks for all he cared.

Rolling out of his bunk and hitting the floor with a loud thump, Chris laid on the dirty carpet for a few moments, trying to regain his sanity. Figuring that was long gone, he pushed up, straightened out his dirty clothes, and looked around. The bus was completely fucking empty. While that might have been cause for concern, Chris pushed it aside and headed into the tiny loo to piss.

He fell out of the bus a few moments later, completely missing the steps. A roar of laughter erupted in his ears, but Chris got to his feet, flipped off the watching crowd, and stalked over to Eddie. The Pearl Jam singer grinned at his friend, shook his head, and held out a beer. Without a thought, Chris accepted it, gulped down half of the amber liquid, and finally really met Eddie’s gaze.

“What? What is it?” he asked a bit gruffly.

“Your wife is looking for you,” Eddie replied.

“Fuck. Susan’s here?” his eyes cast around in a near panic.

“Uh, not yet,” the other singer replied cautiously. “And she might not if you... you know, call her.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grumbled. “Where is a fucking phone?”

Tracking one down with the help of the road manager, Chris quickly dialed his wife’s number, for some reason choosing to call the house before her office. It rang without answer, not even the answering machine picking up. Hanging up with frustration, he tried the office number, knowing at least someone would answer and tell him where his wife was and if he should be hiding under the wheel of a moving vehicle.

“Silver Management,” a vaguely familiar voice answered.

“Hey, it’s Chris. Is Susan around?”

“Oh. She is just about to leave. One moment.”

Drumming on the payphone, Chris fished out a cigarette and fumbled to light it before his wife’s not so dulcet tones came through the earpiece, “Hey, Suze. What’s up?”

“Tell me that you have not been drinking another man’s bile.”

Fuck, Chris grimaced, “Babe, it’s not what you think.”

“Goddammit, Cornell! Don’t you have any sense in that head of yours? Not only is that really fucking disgusting but did you ever stop to think of the repercussions of doing it? My god, Chris, I can’t let you go anywhere.”

“Suze, I—”

“No. Absolutely no. You are not to do such a stupid and immature thing again. If I hear anything that would make me even remotely consider that you did something as stupid as this again I will—”

“Babe, you don’t have to worry about a thing. I’ll behave, promise,” he responded, tossing the half-finished can of beer away as if she could see it. “I promise.”

“I will know if you break that promise.”

“I know, Suze. I know.”

Hanging up the phone a moment later, Chris lit another cigarette. Looking at it, he tossed that aside as well. He had a feeling that all the fun of being on the road was over. All because his fucking bitch of a wife and manager had sucked it all out. Fuck touring. He was done as soon as this one was over. He was done with it all.



Even though it was only her twelfth birthday, Alyssa felt it was far more momentous than one would expect. It really had nothing to do with anything, except the fact she was having her first coed birthday party. Five boys and four girls had accepted her party invitation and her parents had bought all sorts of games and goodies for everyone. And because her birthday happened to land on a Saturday, it was going to be a sleepover, boys included. She had been surprised when her father approved of the entire plan, but he set ground rules, like the fact the boys would have to sleep in the guest room downstairs while the girls slept upstairs in Alyssa’s room. She agreed, thinking that a wonderful way to celebrate the fact she no longer shared a room with her baby sister, but had one all to herself. And she knew that her father talked to all of the kids’ parents too, so everything was completely set.

Her guests just needed to arrive.

Within an hour of the party’s start time, all of the boys and girls had arrived. They all sat in the living room, laughing and teasing each other while Marilyn gathered up the games. They played pin the tail on the donkey, even letting the young Judith get shot at it, before everyone clamored for Alyssa to open up presents. She resisted but with nine kids telling her she needed to, she relented. Once all of the kids’ presents were open, her daddy brought in a very large wrapped box.

Setting it down in front of her, he smiled, “This is from your mom, Judith, and I. Happy birthday, princess.”

Tearing the pretty paper off and revealing a, she gasped, “Daddy!”

Howard smiled, “Your mom said you wanted one, so...”

“Oh Daddy, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“But you’re going to need these,” Marilyn held out a smaller box.

Alyssa quickly opened the second package. Eyes wide she squealed, finding four compact disks in all wrapped up. The boys instantly wanted to set up the new stereo, the girls wanted to look at the albums. Before long the new electronic was blasting “Smells Like Teen Spirit” and the party was dancing and thrashing about the room. Shaking her head, Marilyn guided her younger daughter out of the room, letting the near teenagers have their fun under Howard’s watchful eye.

After the sun had set, Howard retreated to his office after informing the party that Marilyn and Judith had gone to bed and so they must soon. However he understood kids and planned to give them another two hours while he finished up some office work. Making certain that all of the kids knew his office door was open and that he could hear them just fine.

With parental supervision now down the hall, one of the girls suggested they play spin the bottle. Alyssa refused instantly, not wanting to get anyone in trouble by playing such a game. But the girls pushed and the one boy she really liked, Josh, even spoke up that he wouldn’t mind playing. Before long a bottle was spinning on the coffee table. Her hazel eyes watched as the spin slowed to a wobble, the neck pointing directly across the table from her at... Josh.

The other girls squealed and Alyssa pushed up on her knees. The two leaned across the table, their lips pressing together ever so briefly. Everyone clapped, the girls squealing when Josh stole another kiss before sitting back down. No one even thought that the noise would draw Howard out, but he appeared in the living room just in time to see the second kiss.

Smiling crookedly, he announced, “Okay, kids, bedtime. Girls upstairs, boys in the guest room. And don’t even try sneaking about. I will catch you.”

“But, Daaaaad,” Alyssa whined.

“Uh uh, young lady. Upstairs. You can all have fun tomorrow morning before everyone’s parents pick them up. Get moving,” he instructed.

The kids complied, getting to their feet. The boys headed down the hallway to the guest room, Josh lingering a bit longer at the foot of the stairs. The girls hurried up the steps, crowding Alyssa out to keep her downstairs a minute longer. Josh reached out and grasped her hand, drawing her attention to him.

With Howard standing protectively nearby, the young boy asked, “Will you be my girlfriend, Alyssa?”

Her eyes went wide and a flush filled her cheeks before she nodded and muttered, “Yes.”

He smiled and kissed her cheek, “Good night, birthday girl.”