My Fucking Nightmare

The drive was long and tedious. Okay, more like a couple hours, but with traffic to account for and the endless droning on about this lockdown between the crew, I just about had it before we even crossed the Nevada border. So when I saw the roads become city streets and sandy hills become hotel towers, I never smiled more out of excitement. We jumped out of the van at the entrance of the hotel while one of the tech guys, Billy, parked the van.
I checked into my own room on their dime. We were staying at MGM Grand, a fifteen minute drive from the Riviera, which was way up the Strip. I had no clue whatsoever of the layout of Vegas, so I stuck to my flimsy tour guide pamphlet and hoped for the best. Brian would be staying here with me and he was bound to arrive on his bike anytime soon. For the time being, I headed up to my room to drop my luggage off and rest before the day’s events lengthened.
About an hour after tossing myself across the king bed, I heard a knock and the romping of a familiar group of voices and footsteps. The door opened with another key and in poured Brian, Matt, and Jimmy. After them followed Harriet, who looked like she was more excited about all the gambling she was about to do than anything else. “Hey baby,” I crooned to Brian, grabbing his face and pulling it close to mine. “How was the drive?”
He shrugged. “Long, dry, hot. Awesome scenery, ton of bugs. Wish you could have been my back seat bitch.”
“Mm, yes I love being your back seat bitch. You two must have rode together, hmm?” I asked Harry and Matt. Jimmy had his Escalade’s keys still in his hand. I was shocked that he was even allowed to come. Without saying anything, Matt swept Harriet into his arms and carried her out of the room to find their own. I could hear their laughter reverberating down the hall. Jimmy plunked himself down on the bed beside me and kicked off his shoes. “Uh, no way. Go find your own room.” I joked, pushing Jimmy off the bed. He squealed once he hit the floor and scrambled to his feet. “And why didn’t everyone else come?”
Jimmy brushed himself off and found his shoes across the floor. “Well, Zack’s a daddy so that speaks for him. I never told Johnny we were coming. Brian, did you tell the runt that we were coming?”
“Oh, no. I didn’t. Did Matt do you think?”
I rolled my eyes. “Probably not. He’s gonna be fucking pissed, you know.” Whatever. It’s not like they even needed to come with me anyway. “So I have to run and meet Zak and his crew in the lobby at four. What are you losers gonna do until I get back?”
“Uh, gamble. What the fuck else do you think there is to do in Vegas?”
I pulled out my pamphlet from under my boob since I kinda fell onto it when I tumbled face-down. “Well, there’s tons to do. Don’t spend all your money gambling, boys. Oh look, helicopter rides to the Grand Canyon. A hundred bucks a head. Uh, shooting range with everything from military-grade weapons to goddamn bazookas! Holy fuck, I want to go.” Brian whipped the pamphlet from my hands.
“Christ, that’s cool. Okay, well how long are you gonna be babe?”
“I dunno, couple hours probably. It’s only the first night so Zak’s gonna want to get some interviews done and maybe set up his stuff. I should probably be there for that. So yeah, sounds like a couple hours at least.”
He nodded and shoved the paper into his jacket pocket. “Jim, let’s collect the other two and hit the casino. My palms are itchy. And you…” he turned to me, pulling me off the bed by my hips and pulling me into a kiss, “Better be good with those other boys or I’ll beat them all up. Now go knock ‘em dead, beautiful.”
He and Jimmy left the room, still romping around. Fuck, they were loud. For a moment I wondered how drunk Brian was gonna be when I’d get back tonight. I grabbed my keys and notebook and anything else I might need for the interviews and left the room as well.
Zak and the boys met me in the lobby as they said they would and we all piled back into their van for the fifteen minute drive up the Strip. Upon arrival, Zak and Aaron both went slack-jawed as their eyes combed the exterior of the hotel. Not to mention, the few people standing near the entrance. I wasn’t sure what to expect yet again, but I certainly went slack-jawed myself once I recognized who was standing there with the owner and his wife. Fucking Vince Neil. Mötley Crüe’s very own Vince fucking Neil. Oh god, now I was freaking out. I wish Brian was here for this.
Aaron was the first to go up and shake everyone’s hand. The others were still trying to collect themselves in the van. I mean, I’d been around celebrities more in the last little while than they ever were so the exposure was something I was used to. Knowing people whose names were known worldwide was something life changing and I was more than grateful for the little bit of preparation I got for this moment.
I shook Vince’s hand with as firm a grip as I could. He eyed me up and down and whistled, and for a second I was a little insulted but to be cat called by Vince fucking Neil wasn’t something anyone could experience on a normal day. I grew up on Mötley. Who didn’t? “And you must be the talented writer. You didn’t think they’d just bring someone like you to Vegas just to write about some ghost stories, did you?”
I stammered but collected myself almost immediately. “Uh, no sir. I suspected a little more when Zak told me they were supposed to try and communicate with the late Frank Sinatra. I do specialize in celebrity stories.”
“So you can see that it’s not just old Sinatra that’s gonna be the star of this little story, either. Well kiddo, I’ve read some of your work. It’s impressive.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ve listened to your music since I was a couple feet tall.” We both shared a short laugh and I sent myself off, mildly embarrassed and a little more overwhelmed. Yeah, I definitely wished Brian was here.
After the interviews, I had everything I needed to head back to the hotel and begin writing the initial opening. Introduction to the crew was key, then what they did. And concluding the first chunk would be the meeting with Vince and the hotel’s owner, the Chairman of the Las Vegas Convention and Visitors Authority. All the information that I already got was imperative: the scheme of the plan, what we’d be doing, what our goal was, and later on, the outcome of the lockdown.
I jotted down all the details I could remember about the devices and stuff they’d be using on the scene, but right now I was so exhausted and amped up on coffee and adrenaline that I soon forgot everything. Giving up, I left the room to try and find Brian downstairs somewhere. Hopefully they hadn’t ventured off to some strip club. I’d never find them.
Luckily for me and my tiredness, I found Brian and Matt at a high-rollers blackjack table. It looked like Brian was up from the half-drunken smirk on his face. Matt folded already and was counting his cash. “Where’s Harriet?” I asked, hoping to be heard over the crowd and the dinging of the slot machines.
“Oh, she went back up to our room.” Matt yelled back. “She was complaining of a headache or something, I was just gonna go up and check on her. Here, I’ll buy you a round if you want in.” he passed me a huge stack of his chips and left the table promptly. I sat down beside Brian, passing a subtle wink. Then I looked around the table, analyzing everyone else’s face. The dealer was a sleuth-looking motherfucker whose eyes told me that he’d seen some shit as a blackjack dealer in the MGM’s casino.
I paid in and he dealt our cards, watching each of us fidget with our hands. Mine was okay, I won the first couple hands. Nothing serious. I paid Matt his money back and folded before I got in too deep. Then I waited for Brian to fold a few turns after me. He was three more scotches in at that point and I was starting to smell the liquor from a few feet away.
Eventually I had to drag his drunk ass back to our room where I began to strip him down. He was submissive, half-asleep as I tossed his clothes to the floor by the bed. He was too heavy for me to move him upwards so I crawled under the sheets on my side of the bed, forced to the edge since he goddamn near star-fished across the whole thing. Who takes up an entire king, anyway?
I flicked the television on, and scrolled through the channel directory. Nothing special seemed to be on, and I was tired anyway, so I put it on some boring cop show and closed my eyes. In the middle of the night I felt Brian get up and quickly rush to the bathroom, and heard everything as he unleashed a torrent of scotch and god knows whatever else. I don’t recall him eating anything at all either, even though I was gone for most of the evening.
He was a big boy, I told myself. He could fend for himself.
And upon his return to our bed, he pulled himself up and into the sheets, cuddling into my back. I could smell the alcohol-tarnished vomit on his breath, but by now it was something I was far used to, and slowly I fell back of sleep in the comforting arms of my lover.

Notes

It's gonna pick up soon guys, I promise.