That Blue Gibson: Another Round

forty-four

"Ooooo, David!" Liz jeered at him, pushing gently on his shoulder, "You're in so much trouble!"

"Here," he laughed, shoving his shot glass at her, "I'll be right back."

They'd been at the venue for a few hours and the band had already finished their sound check so they were free to do as they pleased until their set time much later in the evening. Dave hadn't allowed the gloominess of the day before to overcast their last day in Europe, but he also wasn't ignoring the reality that another band was secluded in their own dressing room just a few doors down from their own, suffering through unimaginable grief. 

But in the Foo's dressing room, it was party-as-usual. Motorhead was blaring, the room was packed with people laughing and drinking, and Gus was grumpily trying to keep it all in order as best he could.

Allison's hand closed around Liz's arm, "Come watch this," she insisted, pulling her across the room so they could peek down the hallway where Dave was mid-interview with a camera in his face and a stunningly gorgeous Italian woman beside him. An interpreter was next to the cameraman and Liz kept her gaze on him long enough to notice he was intensely uncomfortable.

"She's with Rockerilla," Allison whispered, "Taylor can't stand her cause she such a flirt."

That much was obvious with the way she kept giggling and touching Dave anywhere she could and even through the language barrier it was apparent that the girl had brought her A-game. Dave was good-natured about it all, keeping his arms crossed over his chest except for when his hair would fall in his face while blithely answering her questions.

"We love Italy," Liz heard him say. "My girl's never been here so I've been showing her around."

Some more rapid Italian, a quiet translation that Liz barely heard, "But have you ever been with an Italian woman?" and then Dave's sharp, loud laugh accompanied by a head shake.

"Liar," Allison laughed softly.

A little taken aback at the forwardness of the interview, Liz turned her attention to her friend for a moment and almost asked if she was Italian, but there was too much lemon liqueur in her blood to bring that up now. Plus, the subsequent question being thrown at Dave made her heart leap into her throat.

"Your song, 'All My Life', it's said to be about pleasuring a woman. Is that-?"

"Yeah," Dave's cheeks and the tips of his ears tinged pink as he tried to shut the question down, "That one's a little dirty."

Liz strained to hear through the thick accent of the interpreter, something about the lyrical meaning of the song when her heart took a sudden nosedive into her stomach."Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it," she whispered softly, her eyes wide as she listened to his answer.

"Yeah, honestly though... I don't hate the taste anymore."

"Goddamnit, David," Liz groaned while Allison gasped sharply and covered her mouth to disguise her laugh.

"Holy shit what did they put in that limoncello?" Al giggled and followed Liz when she stalked back into the dressing room.

"That'll be all over the fucking internet in fifteen minutes."

"There could be worse things out there," Allison offered while handing her a full bottle of gifted liqueur off a table. Shooting her a glare while wrenching the cork free, Liz took a long drink and winced against the lemon vodka while her friend went on, "I've gone down on a few women, Elizabeth, and I can promise you-"

From several feet away, Taylor flung his drumsticks over his shoulder and darted over to them, eagerly leaning into the space between the two women to hear them clearly, "What are we talking about?"