"She was uh... well, very experienced at sexuality," he replied. "But I was drunk and stoned. I wouldn't have done it otherwise."
"You'll be drunk and stoned tonight too," Matt reminded him.
Jake thought that over for a second. "I guess you're right," he said, smiling.
"That's my fuckin' brother," Jake said, slapping him on the back. "I knew you were a man. You oughtta call up that Catholic bitch while you're fucking some slut tonight and put the phone down by her pussy so she can hear the squishing while you laugh at her. That'll show her she's been replaced."
"That would show her all right," Jake said, knowing he would never do such a thing no matter how drunk or how mad he was, also knowing that Matt would do it even if he were sober and only mildly peeved.
That sat in silence for a bit, Matt smoking, Jake drinking from his ice water. Finally Jake brought up the subject that had been bothering both of them. "Darren is stoned out of his mind," he said.
"I know," Matt said. "I can smell it all over him for one thing, but that's not even it. I can tell just by looking at him. I mean, Jesus fucking Christ, we've gotten stoned together a thousand times. We know what he acts like, what he fuckin' looks like when he's flyin'. Does he really think he's fooling us?"
"Yeah, I think he does," Jake said.
"Moron," Matt said, shaking his head.
Throughout their year of playing together onstage, the members of Intemperance had changed and evolved in many ways. Their wardrobe, their playing styles, their onstage antics, the between-song banter, even their music itself had all undergone a shift as they gained experience performing. One thing that had not changed, however, was the rule about using intoxicating substances before rehearsing or performing. Matt and Jake both liked to think of this as a sacred decree. But over the past six weeks or so, they had noticed that Darren seemed to be throwing this rule to the wayside. He would show up for rehearsals higher than a kite, claiming that he had smoked some hours before but was fine now. Worse, he was now starting to slip out somewhere before their live performances and come back reeking of pot, his eyes half-lidded, his speech thick and slow in the way it only got when he was stoned. Tonight had been the first night that Matt-as the leader of the group-had actually called him on it. Darren had simply denied it absolutely and unwaveringly.
"Dude, I'm not stoned," he said. "I wouldn't burn before a show. You know that."
"I can smell it all over you, asshole!" Matt yelled back, exasperated and pissed.
"That doesn't mean I've been smoking it," Darren protested. "Jesus, man. I walked by some people out back that were toking up and the smoke got on me."
They had gone round and round about this for almost ten minutes before Matt had finally walked away in frustration-an emotion that was almost foreign to him.
"What are we gonna do about it?" Jake asked now. "I mean, this can't go on. I'm pretty sure he was lit when he tripped over his power cord."
"Yeah," Matt said. "He was."
"And if this keeps up, he's gonna have Coop smoking out with him before long. You know how close those two are. You know how Darren's the fuckin epitome of peer pressure."
"I know," Matt agreed, dropping his cigarette into a soda can. "I've known Darren since we were freshmen in high school so I know what he's like and what he's capable of. This isn't going to continue. Mark my word."
"What are you going to do?"
"He's an old friend and I hate to do it, but I'm gonna have to lay down the law with him. I'll take him aside tonight and let him know that if he shows up stoned for either a rehearsal or a performance one more time... if we even think he might be stoned at a rehearsal or a performance, then he's out of the band."
Jake thought this was very harsh, but he didn't disagree. They couldn't afford to have anyone giving less than their all. "Do you think he'll believe you?"
"If he wants to push the issue, I'll let him know where he really stands. He's a fuckin' bass player. He's pretty good but he isn't outstanding or anything. He can easily be replaced. If we put an ad in the paper asking for a bass player to perform with Intemperance, we'll have two hundred applications the next day and I guarantee you that at least one out of every ten of them will be both better and more reliable than Darren."
"And what if he tries to get Coop to go with him if we kick him out?"
Another shrug. "If you were Coop, would you go with him?"
"No," Jake said immediately. "I wouldn't."
"And I don't think Coop will either. And even if he does, the same thing applies to him. Coop is better at drumming than Darren is at bass, but he's not Jon Bonham or anything. If we put an ad out for a drummer, we'd have five hundred applications and one out of every twenty would be as good or better than Coop. When you come right down to it, those two positions in the band are nothing but support. Its you, me, and Nerdly that make this band what it is. Agree?"
"Yeah," Jake said. "I think that's a fair assessment."
"So if the fuckin' rhythm section is having a problem with the buds, then we can kick their asses out of here if they don't stay in line. And right now, that's the situation we face. I'll tell Darren how it is tonight, you support me, and this thing will work itself out. Trust me."
Jake nodded. "I'll support you," he said.
O'Donnel appeared a moment later, his signature cocaine glint firmly affixed upon his face. Darren, Coop, and Bill trailed behind him, Darren still looking sullen and hurt from the argument with Matt.
"You ready to do it, boys?" O'Donnel asked, putting his chubby arms around Jake and Matt's shoulders.
"We're ready," Matt said, casting an evil glare at Darren. "Aren't we?"
Darren refused to meet his eyes. Yeah," he muttered. "Ready for Freddie."
O'Donnell's smile faded a bit as he picked up on some of the tension. He seemed to debate saying something and then decided not to. "All right then," he said instead. "Let's get the show on."
The crowd cheered as he walked out on the stage, quieted while he made a lengthy and almost syrupy introduction, and then erupted into out and out pandemonium when the name Intemperance was spoken. The band did their now customary hands on hands symbol of camaraderie and then hit the stage. The cheers, whistles, and shouts intensified as they picked up their instruments and took their places.
"You ready to rock and roll?" Jake asked the crowd, serving the dual purpose of riling them up and performing a level check on his microphone. Since they were the headliner band they had no opportunity for a sound check prior to the show. They had to rely on pre-setting all of the equipment beforehand.
The crowd was ready to rock and roll. Intemperance obliged them. Coop did a four count with the drumsticks and they began to bang out their opening number for this cycle, Waste Not, Want Not-one of Matt's hard-driving tunes that dealt with the subject of never turning down sex or drugs when they were offered.
Jake's fingers picked out the backing riff with ease, moving from fret to fret. When the cue came around, his voice burst out of his mouth, the words flowing freely, effortlessly, the volume and timbre shaped to perfection. The crowd settled down a bit and enjoyed the music, most of them swaying to the beat and tapping their feet, more than a few actually singing along. When Matt played the first guitar solo of the night-a fast and furious finger-tapping number-the crowd stood and cheered, raising their arms and pumping them.
They ended the song as they did all of them-with a tremendous concerto of drums, guitars, piano, and bass chords. After a brief pause to let the crowd cheer in appreciation, there was another four count and they launched into Descent Into Nothing, a tried and true favorite at D Street West.