Unchained | Hiatus

Chapter 11: For Those About to Rock

Madison, Wisconsin

Early Spring, 1988

The large white room was silent despite the amount of people nestled inside. There were no windows, but the speckled cement block walls held the cool from outside, drafting around in frigid swirls. The white added to the brightness of the trashed room and it was blinding under hangover circumstances. Empty bottles littered the floor, emanating a cedar smell that caused the addicts within to drink more burning alcohol to satisfy their senses. The room was a crime scene, ruined beyond repair, without a concern, by the steaming inhabitants of the room.

Only four girls lounged in the room, surrounded by euphoric men who had no names, as far as the girls were concerned. All were glistening with acrid sweat post-concert, and half were grasping feebly for air although it had been some time since they had preformed.

Brandi lay back on one of the suede couches in the arms of a strong, shirtless, tan man, giddy with hope for a chance to make it with her. Her eyes were dead and sedated. She recollected on all that she and Sinner had accomplished in the past two years with mild contempt and good distaste.

Three albums, Broken Toy, Loose Lips-- an EP-- and Satan is Calling, had been released and shot straight to number one-- second until Pour Some Sugar on Me had expired on the Billboard Charts as number one the previous year. Satan is Calling had gone gold, perhaps because the name was so intriguingly forbidding, and Loose Lips had gone silver, regarded as one of their weaker albums. Broken Toy, their debut album, had gone platinum within two months of going on the shelf. When the band had attended the Platinum Party alongside bands like Spütnic, who had also had some luck, Van Halen, and Badlands, the night was met with disaster when a rouge firework lit by Sammy Hagar had spiraled into the hotel next door, setting the fourteenth floor afire in two seconds. They had all-- but Sammy, who managed to get away before the police and fire department appeared-- done a few minutes in jail before Max Mahony had bailed them out. 

Debbie had since settled down with Sting of The Police while Alex, Rizzy, and Brandi enjoyed the single life. Brandi and Michael had been going steady since late 1986, but she hadn't let the relationship become faithful. Their arrangement of acceptable cheating worked and they were just as happy as ever, regardless of how unhappy they were with their lives. The music business had ravished Brandi, tearing at her heart and soul every possible grasp. She found herself regretting more and more running away, repeating the words of warning her mother had given her just a year or so ago.

Alex was the new Jimmy Page, it seemed, from the way magazines gushed over her. She was the face of any guitar player's magazine, the poster on not only a young boy's wall, but an adult man's wall; she wasn't the face, but she was the talent. Her and Brandi had become the "It" friendship in Los Angeles, the new Robbin Crosby and Nikki Sixx, the newer Joe Perry and Steven Tyler. Brandi had tried rigorously to dilute the news surrounding her and Alex for the sake of the lesser-confident Rizzy, but it never worked the way she intended and Brandi had watched uselessly as Rizzy slipped deeper and deeper into a depression far worse than that of anyone in the band. 

Rizzy still hadn't said a word to anyone in the band but Alex, which she seldom did. The crowd was fascinated by her silence and rumors began flying around that she had taken a vow of silence for her dead mother, though he mother was alive and well. Those close to her say her vocal chords were cut at a young age for health reasons, spewed Rolling Stone magazine. The Woman with no Voice has spoken to me and only me, and I can say that she is deeply hurting! Creem lied revoltingly. She doesn't talk because she hates the rest of Sinner, like the majority of the male population does, Circus spat venom.