Part 1

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Putting his guitar down, Lindsey sighed. He was annoyed. It was the same every day. He, Mick, John and Christine would show up on time or at least around the time, then they would wait for Stevie. Some days she didn't even come and she didn't think she needed to explain herself. If not her, the album most likely would have already been finished.

"I'm going out for a smoke." Lindsey announced, not that anybody truly cared, everyone minding their own business.

Leaving the building, Lindsey sat down right there on the pavement and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He wasn't much of a smoker, but he kept them just in case. Lighting up one, he took a long drag, then blew the smoke out, staring into the distance.

It had only been a little over ten years since he and Stevie joined Fleetwood Mac, but that one decision changed their lives drastically. He knew it would ruin them, he knew it was wrong, but he hated how hard Stevie had to work for so little money, which barely covered their rent and bought them food. He had promised her so many great things and nothing had happened for them right up to that moment when Mick called to invite Lindsey to join the band. He felt like he owed Stevie, that's why he agreed. He wasn't going to take away that opportunity from her as well.

Stubbing out the cigarette, Lindsey jumped to his feet, ready to head back inside, when a car pulled up and Stevie got out from it. She looked nothing like herself; tired, disheveled, sad...

"So, you decided to show up after all." Lindsey said, catching her attention.

"Don't start." She glared at him and walked past him inside.

Taking a moment to collect himself before he did or said something stupid, Lindsey went after Stevie, getting to her before she reached the studio they were recording in.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take it out on you." He apologized. "I had a rough night."

Stevie didn't say anything back, shrugging her shoulders, as she opened the door to go inside. She was used to it.

"I suppose, we should get to work." Lindsey looked at his bandmates, only receiving a nod from Mick.

It was going to be a long day.

"It's not working." Lindsey spoke up, after they had been recording one of Stevie's songs for a while now.

"Does it ever for you?" She shot back, folding her arms.

"Don't get defensive. You're just... you're not there, Stevie. There's no emotion in your voice."

"Well, thank you!" She rolled her eyes, tossing the headphones away. "Seriously, Lindsey, all you do is bitch about me and to me. I don't come here, you're pissed, I come here and you're still pissed! Make up your damn mind!"

"Enough you two." Mick tried to break them up, knowing a fight was awaiting.

"Maybe I wouldn't have to bitch about everything if you did a little bit less coke and did your fucking job right!" Lindsey yelled back at Stevie, who narrowed her eyes, ready to leave. "Of course! Run away, our little princess! That's what you do best."

"Fuck you, Lindsey!"

"That's all you can say? It doesn't even affect me anymore." He shrugged, blocking her way out. "Sit your ass down and record the goddamn song! You're the one holding us up! We should have finished by now."

"Blame it all on me, because that's what you do best." Stevie echoed his words, jamming a finger in his chest.

"I wouldn't have to if you were able to see things clearly and concentrate for a few short hours. Although, I'm sure that drug induced haze doesn't even lift anymore!"

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