Broke Dick Dog

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And that proved to be about twenty minutes later

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And that proved to be about twenty minutes later. During the time in between, Mick and Nikki tried out some new guitar riffs while Evie sat quietly in the corner of the room. And she didn't even want to know what Tommy and Vince were getting up to.

Eventually, the two of them wandered back into the dressing room and said they were ready to leave. They gathered their things and Evie and Mick followed Nikki's car to his apartment.

To her surprise, there were already people waiting outside, most of them holding bottles of liquor. Nikki simply had to let them in before the music started blasting and the party goers got blasted.

Being introverted, Evie mostly stood around, doing her best to avoid attracting the attention of the probably twenty drunk guys wandering around.

She stuck close to her father when she could. He mostly drank, talked with people she had never met before, and, at one point, he even brought up his guitar from the car and started playing some Motley songs for a small group of people who had gathered around him. As far as Evie could tell, Vince spent most of his time in the apartment's bathroom while girls took their turns coming in and out, Tommy unabashedly made out with a woman who, according to Mick, was his girlfriend, and Nikki snorted cocaine with his friends while girls sat on either side of him.

So, not only was Evie out of her element, at a crowded party full of drugs and booze and people she didn't know, but she also watched the only young men who had shown her any positive attention in a long time completely ignore her while taking their pick of endless amounts of women who were much prettier than her. It stung, but Evie only blamed herself for getting her hopes up over guys who were obviously womanizers.

That was why, after about an hour, Evie asked her father if they could leave. His spine aching from the long day, Mick didn't argue with her.

After Evie drove the two of them home, Mick collapsed in bed without changing his clothes and was out in no time.

Evie went to her bathroom. She stared at herself in the mirror for some time, trying to decide if she really was as pretty as she liked to think she was. Then, she put her hair up in a bun, removed her makeup, took a scalding hot shower, and went to bed.

-----

The next morning, Mick was, of course, hungover. This left Evie having to do all the regular Saturday chores by herself: making breakfast, starting the laundry, putting away the dishes, sweeping.

It was almost noon by the time her father was up, showered, and eating the pancakes Evie made. The two of them talked about the show the night before, and Evie got some comfort from the way he apologized for making her go to Nikki's party. She was relieved to know that her father didn't actually like the shit the other guys thought was fun.

After eating, Mick went into the garage to practice. Before too long, he came back into the house.

"Did you bring my guitar in last night?" He asked. 

"No, I don't think so. Did you check the car?"

"I did. It's not in there."

She thought hard. "Unless you took it down by yourself before we left, then it's gotta still be at Nikki's. I don't remember putting it in the car."

"Shit," the man grumbled. "I guess I'll go over there."

And he did. Mick knocked on the door. There was no reply. He knocked again.

"Who the fuck is it?" He heard Nikki's pained voice.

"It's Mick. I think I left my guitar here last night."

The bassist groaned as he pulled himself up off of the sofa he had passed out on. He opened the door and gestured for Mick to come in.

Mick was taken aback by the filth he walked into. The dozens of empty bottles and other assorted trash scattered around the floor were to be expected after a party. But the grime on the walls, the stains on the floor and furniture, the mold growing in various places around the apartment; that was the product of months, if not years of neglect. He probably hadn't noticed it last night because it was too crowded, too dark, and he was too drunk. But now, in the sobering daylight and emptiness, Mick could tell that his bandmate was destitute.

"Sorry about the mess," Nikki said, ashamed by how shocked the other man looked. "You said you were here for your guitar?"

"Yeah," Mick said, looking at Nikki for the first time. He looked just as beaten down and neglected as the apartment. "I really hope I left it here. It isn't in my car and Evie doesn't remember taking it into the house last night."

"Yeah, you did. I saw it after you guys left and put it in my bedroom so nobody would mess with it."

Mick sighed out in relief. "Thanks, man." He followed Nikki to his room. It was just as filthy as the rest of the apartment, only more sad: there was nothing but a thin mattress with a single blanket. No sheets, no pillow, and clothes were strewn all over the floor.

"Here you go," Nikki said, handing Mick his guitar.

"Thanks, I was real worried that somebody stole it!"

"No problem."

Mick made it about halfway back to the front door before stopping. "You know," he said awkwardly. "Do you want some help, uh, cleaning up some of these bottles and shit."

"You don't have to do that," Nikki said, warmed by the offer.

"No, no. It's no trouble, really." Mick took it upon himself to head to the kitchen to look for some trash bags.

"Only if you insist."

"I do," the older man said, grabbing the box of trash bags from under the sink.

With their combined effort, ridding the apartment of all the trash left over from the night before only took about ten minutes. Not one for praise, Mick only let Nikki thank him twice before he took his guitar and left.


When he arrived home, Mick found his daughter curled up in his chair with a book in her lap. He sat down on the adjacent couch and sighed. Evie could tell something was up and it wasn't the sigh. Since when did her dad not kick her out of his recliner? She wanted to ask what was up, but thought better of it and continued reading instead.

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