With or Without You (John Taylor)

One

The bassist swept a sticky hand through his long brown tendrils, swirling a drink in his left. There wasn't much to do on a Thursday afternoon in Malibu in '82. The Rio album had just debuted a few weeks prior, and he was still living on a high that only fame could ride. John looked across the hotel bar, peeking between slick bangs. He went from a dope in Birmingham to a chart toping bassist. His love for music and persistence was finally paying off. They were playing in Los Angeles tomorrow, giving John the perfect excuse to not get drunk with Simon for once. A few drinks and he'd head back to the room for the night.

"Hey, Taylor, right?"

John turned, greeted with a face that matched the soft hand against his back. "The one and only." He gave a charming smile, pressing his lips together. John helped the figure onto the tall stool before turning back at the counter.

"One and only? Aren't there three of you in the band?" She smirked.

"John" He formally introduced, reaching a ring covered hand.

"Vada."

Her velvet skin tingled against John's touch. His lips drawn to her hand as his eyes meet her kelly green seas. "You stay here?"

"Receptionist. Drinks are cheaper and stronger here, which helps." John nodded, twisting the ring on his index with his thumb. It wasn't a bad gig. Many celebrities traveled through, leaving lots of opportunity. "Do you get a lot of bands through here?" John knew the answer but craved conversation. "Yeah, sometimes. Van Halen will be here next month. Roth is definitely on my bucket list." Vada joked. John laughed, his innocence showing. "Is that so?"

The bassist threw the rest of his drink back in defeat. She'd get him. He couldn't compare to such a boastful singer. Given the chance, even John would swoon over him. He wouldn't blame Vada, he only wished he was DLR. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, curl springing back up into a perfect scrunch. Her natural work beauty took over the room. Hell, John had more makeup on than she did. The exhaustion was written in the creases under her eyes, but it still didn't take away from her bright complexion. "I had good seats to your show tomorrow, just having trouble finding someone to pick up my shift." She sighed, placing her cheeks atop her fists.

"I really hope I can see you there." The tender slid Vada a drink with a cherry on the side. She plucked the fruit from the stem with her teeth.

"Me too." She winked, chewing the garnish.

"Come back to my room?" The words spilled out of his mouth like a fire hydrant, making him regret even coming to the bar. He scrunched his eyes, afraid of the rejection. Vada set her drink on the bar counter and slowly turned to his direction. "I'd love to, but I'm not off for another few hours." Her response sank into the room. She gave a sincere half smile, following a sigh.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I even asked that." John motioned to the drink, blaming his word vomit on alcohol.

"Vada turning down a musician? Never heard of that before." The tender dried a glass as he laughed in her honor. "Shut up, Brian." She rolled her eyes, a cast of red taking over her expression. John reached a gangly arm around her stool, giving her arm an affirming squeeze. Vada plopped her hands on the counter in defeat. "I guess that's my cue." She looked at the clock on the wall, ready to return to work. "I hope to be seeing you soon?" John nervously tended his next few lines, heart racing.

"Me too, rock star." She reached over the counter, grabbing another cherry and popping it in her mouth.
John plunked back into his seat, watching her shadow fade through the smokey air. The faints of a smile cracked across his face as he admired the iridescent pink gloss around the rim of her glass. He threw a few American bills on the bar, nodding to the tender.

The key slid into the door, creaking into a drab room. The bassist reached over his head to pull his shirt off as he looked around the room. Nick wouldn't be back for a while, his travel keyboard would start collecting dust. He hadn't any information on the musician, only a quick 'i'll be back later. see ya.' John's lanky body collapsed on the bed, soaking up every inch of foam around him. Body tense, his eyes rolled back in his head. No one ever talked about the exhausting bits of the tour. John's nights and days were flipped and the blisters on his fingers from playing every night caused him lots of irritation. His eyes weighed heavily, finding the dark behind his lids to be a safe zone.

The clock read 7:28 as John fought to keep his eyes open. He couldn't continue dozing off as the brunette still balanced on his mind. John rolled to his stomach, propping up on his elbows as he looked at the bar napkin he swiped. He chewed on his lip, mulling over his next move until compulsion took him over.

"Reception?"

"Yes, these towels are unacceptable. I was wondering if I could get some fresh ones to my room?" The sound of her voice, just as silky as it was in person. John rolled to his back, twirling the phone cord in his hand with a devious smile. "Oh... I'm sorry about that, sir. I'll bring some up immediately." And like that, she was gone. He hung the phone on the hook with a hopeful sigh.Even if they didn't have long, John was craving her presence.

A knock on the door startled the bassist out of the bed.

He opened the door to find a stack of towels with a note.

"Nice try, Taylor. ;)"

John exhaled in defeat, dropping his arms to his side. He leaned against the threshold of the room. He should have known better. Vada wouldn't be that easy to catch. He rubbed his face with exhaustion, crumpling the paper in his fist as he turned back to the door.
"Expecting someone?"
The voice melts his bare feet to the shag carpeting.
"It's possible." A hand against his back moves down his arm, pulling him into the bedroom.

"Nice place you got here." Vada kicks a pile of clothes into a suitcase with a laugh. "I hadn't a chance to straighten." John folds his arms with a smile. "Nicks keyboard?" She points across the room in awe.

"Yeah, he uses that when we're on the road." Her hand dances across the keys with delicacy. "It's nice." She purrs, eyes looking up over long feathered lashes. "Where's your road bass?"

John stretched into a closet, pulling out his black Liberator. "Teach me?" John's heart rate sped up over the question as she batted her eyes. "O-Okay." He whispered. The ruffles of Vada's blouse slowly sunk past her elbows as she removed it, never breaking eye contact with the bassist. John pulled her to the bed where she sat between his legs.

She laughed at the weight of the bass on her lap, "Okay. So you wanna put your fingers here, here, and here" John's hands filled hers as he strummed the cords. Her back left chills against his torso as she softened every blow to him. "How does- this feel?"
"Right." She cocked her head over her shoulder into his direction.

John brushed his nose against hers, lips parting only for a quick graze. His bangs tickled at her cheeks while he tantalized at her mouth. Vada's breathing hasted as her chest rose and plunged. John's right hand met her collar bone while he caressed every part of her skin that was available. "I need to get going. Everyone will look for me." Vada still had a few hours left of her shift. The last thing the musician wanted was to get her in any trouble, but alas, his own guilty pleasures spoke over her needs.

"Wait- please don't go." John urged as she stole the warmth from his body. A familiar key in the door led to the couple's eyes to dart. There, Nick awkwardly stood, regretting ever rooming with John. He looked to the brunette, then to the hotel uniform on the floor, putting all of the pieces together.

"I'm sorry." She whispered, grabbing her blouse off the bedroom floor and heading out the door. "Vada, please!" John rose to follow. Nick, blocking his way, placed a hand on his shoulder. "Don't do it, mate. Not sure what this rubbish is about, but it's not the time."