Boys got Rhythm

Before I know it, I'm losing you

Disclaimer: this story is pure invention, and with this I do not mean in any way to offend the memory of Bon Scott or besmirch the reputation of AC/DC or those close to them. This story was not written for profit.

The phone slips out of my hand, as if it had been dipped in soapy water. I crashed with a thud on the floor, and I feel the cold that it radiates under my ass, but this is the last thing that matters to me now.

-Bon died, Kimmy.- said Sarah with the broken voice the other side of the phone, a few minutes ago.

She also explained to me all the details of how and where he was found; in a Renault 5, into the icy night in London, after one of his usual lively nights.

I just can't believe it. My ears are buzzing relentlessy, as under anesthesia.

Bon Scott died? No, not him, he is the picture of life itself.

He is the only one of the band that has remained in touch with me, along with Cliff, even after everything that happened between us, a few months ago.

A few months ago I said goodbye to AC/DC, and particularly to one of them, because of the woman whom he has decided to marry, after I had opened my heart to him and making the biggest mistake that I could do in such a situation.

I chose to listen to the prejudices and on the surface, sticking to the wrong man who then abandoned me in favour of a blonde who barely knew.

Just the wrong decision at the wrong time, which has put an end to my "career" in rock.

And now? I have to say goodbye to Bon? To him, that I left so quickly preferring the other guy, and yet, he never carried a grudge against me? No, it can't be true.

Cliff during his last phone call told me that they were all right, that they were planning to release a new album.

And Bon had not forgotten to send me one of his very kind greeting cards for Christmas.

"We're doing great, Kim. Although we are no longer the old geezers of yesteryear, finally the world begins to notice us. And how are you doing?

I'm missing you, especially because since you're no longer around there's nobody left that topples everything touched.

I hope you recovered from that blow... I am trying to do it. Life will go on, you will see.

Merry Christmas. I love you.

Bon."

Hell that life goes on, Bon. This is too much to bear for me.

The only thing I have left is the memory of those years I lived with you, and despite everything, along with the other.

It's time to follow your lifestyle. I dust off a bottle of Jack Daniel's that I find in the liquor cabinet to offer guests, and I start to drink from it, hungrily.

This is the only way I have to look back with memory those moments without suffering too much.