The next show was at Irving Plaza, if you can believe it. The conglomerate booked it in order to test the waters. They wondered if it would sell out. It did. Next, they booked the Palladium in LA. That sold out, of course. The Forum was next; same thing. When MSG did the same, they decided it was time for a worldwide push. Pink Mist was a boon for this particular branch of the organization. See, people think the ones in charge decide what happens, but they first needed a viable product to push. Viable being the operative word. Pink Mist was viable.
Danny sat back stage on an amplifier getting his dick sucked. It was the third worst blow job he’d ever received in his life but he was so drunk and numb off coke, he didn’t even know it. When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to come, he tapped her on the head and pulled up his skinnies. Out in the main hallway, he found Will.
“Yo, bitch, where the weed at, fool?”
“Up your ass, faggot.”
Danny grabbed and felt the inside of his butt cheeks through his jeans. “Bullshit,” he said, “it ain’t here,”
“Fuck pot anyways, man. I got what you want right here.” Will said, feeling around in his jacket pocket.
Danny stood there watching him shuffle through his pockets for thirty seconds as assorted groupies and hangers-on passed by.
“Man, Will, all you’ve got is a little dick.”
“No, wait; I have something else, too.”
He shuffled away for another thirty seconds.
“See, I’m right, all you’ve got is a little dick.” Danny said.
“God damn it! I think fucking Bea took it. God damn it!”
“Lil’ Drill Will, wassup?”
“Where is that bitch? Have you seen her?”
Will took off yelling down the hall for her. Danny took what Will was looking for out of his own pocket - pharmaceutical grade. He dipped his house key in the baggy and snorted it in full view of everyone. Nobody noticed. He dipped his key again and suddenly, Julie the A&R appeared beside him.
“Is that what I think it is?” She said.
“Yeah, it’s cocaine, babe.” He said, sniffing up the second dip, “You want some?”
Julie looked up to see Will frantically running by screaming, “Bea! BEEEAAA!”
She looked back at Danny and grimaced, “Okay, but let’s go someplace less conspicuous,” She said, grabbing his arm.
She led him to another backroom as he tried to balance another bump on his key. Half of it fell to the ground and smeared across his cheek before it reached his nostril. When they got to the backroom, she licked her thumb and wiped the cocaine smear off his face, and sucked it off her thumb like some sort of pouty infant. Danny nearly creamed his jeans right then and there. She was about to accomplish what the groupie couldn’t.
“You wanna just dip in or you want me to chop some lines?” Danny asked.
She started looking around the room, trying to find a surface to chop lines on. When she couldn’t find one, she pulled out her own keys and dug into the baggy.
“Damn…” she said, sniffing up the back drip, “It’s too damn bad.”
“It’s too bad he can’t come with us.” She said, sort of looking off at something, not quite acknowledging him.
“Who’re you talking about?” He said, looking around the room.
“…but it says he won’t change.” She said.
“What…what are you talking about? What’s wrong with you?” Danny said.
“…but, you know, what’s he really good for, anyway?” She continued.
“You’re fucking crazy, you know that?” He said, freaked out, “Who’re you talking to? Who’re you talking about?” He felt like he was going to slap her. He dug back into the bag of coke just so he had something else to do with his hands. When he clipped his keys back on his belt loop, she took his hands into hers.
“Do you have a plan for the future, Danny?” She said. Her hands were warm and soft and he was distracted. The future?