Part 50 (p2 of 4)

Oct 12, 2005 13:13



Part 50b



In the Wings, Stage-Left, 7:35 pm

Bean's multi-tasking. He's examining the audience from his customary spot in the wings, noticing a rather memorable blonde in a very nice red top standing at the left of the stage, running through the new arrangement on "Turkish Delight" and nodding at intervals because Orlando's nattering something in his ear about brunch and-- Kippers. Wait. What?

"Kippers?" Bean looks at Orlando, feeling befuddled.

"Yes," Orlando shakes head, "he's going to eat them. That's what he does. And then he'll kiss me with his kipper-mouth and--" Orlando rubs at his neck. He's standing there, wearing his 'Broccoli is Your Friend' t-shirt and looking for all the world like a suffering individual.

Bean thinks maybe Orlando's a better actor than he knows. "Could be garlic, mate," he shrugs.

"Yeah," Orlando glares at him, "except garlic doesn't have fish eyes."

"Right," Bean nods. His patience for this would be greater if Orlando hadn't made them all go out to a karaoke bar the night before. The memory of Sean singing "Not A Girl, Not Yet A Woman" leaving him mentally scarred forever. "You realize you're completely nutters at the moment, right?"

There's a pause as Orlando frowns, thinking about this, then shrugs. "It's nervous tension. You're supposed to be more helpful here."

Bean suspects the nervous tension isn't something that'll go away overnight, given the history of the people involved, but he also thinks that extreme caution is possibly the best thing for them.

"I'll remember that." Bean looks out again. Sala's back on stage, moving the glockenspiel for what Bean thinks is the third time. He repositions it, places the dammed bongos next to it, and Lawrence walks over to-- Bean hopes-- convince Sala that three times is enough and that he really should, instead, commence with checking the sound levels.

Bean looks back at Orlando and discovers him staring at nothing-- at least, Bean doesn't think a green flat, leaning against the wall counts as anything. He's still frowning, a particularly stoic look on his face, and Bean can’t help the twinge of affection that runs through him. Possibly the nervous tension is more helpful to Viggo than Orlando.

He reaches out his arm, dragging Orlando closer until he's got him in a sort of squashed, sideways bear hug. "Idiot," he says, rubbing Orlando's head briskly. "The both of you would be doomed without me to look after things."

Bean can feel Orlando sigh. "That's not helpful either," his voice says from somewhere in the vicinity of Sean's chest. "'specially coming from someone with, oh, how many divorced wives across the country?"

"Shut it." Bean concentrates on destroying Orlando's hair further with a strong rub from his hand. "You'll survive it, the both of you." He deposits a large, sloppy kiss on Orlando's forehead before he pushes him away. "If he acts up, call me. Dom and I'll intervene."

Orlando grins at him and wipes at his forehead. "My heroes." He moves in, gives Bean a quick hug, and Bean rolls his eyes.

"Enough of that, now." He punches Orlando's shoulder. "Talking about my romantic failures like I don't have feelings."

"What-ever." Orlando delivers the line with a horrendous American accent and Sean makes a note to never let Orlando perform in a role where he can't be British. Or, at the least, European.

Progress is occurring on the stage. Sala's testing microphones, chanting something low and guttural-- probably Maori-- into Liv's. Bean nods Orlando towards the blonde he's got his eye on. "That one's nice."

Orlando pushes next to him to look out, then shakes his head. "Classy, too."

His voice sounds more than a bit sarcastic. Bean rolls his eyes at him. "Very well, then," he mutters. "Can we get this show started already?"

"Well," Orlando examines the stage, "possibly. Sala does seem to have finished arranging the furniture to his liking."

After a minute or two of the Maori, Lawrence comes out. He talks with Sala behind Viggo's microphone, then Sala gives it one last tap, nods like it'll do, and they head off stage-right.

Bean figures it's time to look around for the troops. Bernard's herding Viggo, Liv, and Daisy towards them, but there's no sign of the others. "Karl collecting the lads?"

"They're coming," Viggo nods. He looks at Orlando. "You two ready?"

"That we are," Orlando says, but his voice sounds a bit, something. Funny. Bean takes a moment to look them over. Orlando's shifting from one leg to the other, like if he does it slowly, it can't be called a fidget, and Viggo's face looks a good shade more red than it was a minute earlier. Bean decides it's safe to assume one's sending some sort of sex message to the other. They’re mostly acting like besotted idiots at the moment, and really, he expects the band should be more than a little grateful that they're timing the break during what he can only imagine will be one fucking hell of a honeymoon stage.

He reaches out to shake Viggo by the shoulder. "Channel it, right?"

There's a quiet moment as Daisy chuckles and Viggo looks at him with a very blank expression. He tries to say, "I don't know what you mean," as if he means it, but his face cracks partway through.

"Exactly." Bean rolls his eyes.

Bernard's on headset, having a muttered conversation with the soundboard. Then he stops and looks at the rest of them, tapping his earphone. "We're good then, Karl and the boys are on the other side of the stage." He clips the walkie-talkie back onto his belt. "I'll be heading off then. Five minutes, kids."

"Tell the Misses I'll be thinking only of her during 'Barmaid'," Daisy chuckles.

"Daisy, my love," Dom appears behind him, wearing a large black pirate hat. "You hit on the wife after the husband leaves. Have I taught you nothing?"

"Christ, if Dom's your mentor," Bernard shakes his head. "Please, continue as you will."

Elijah and Billy trail in as Bernard's finishing and Dom looks at them for sympathy. "Thinks he's clever," he mutters. Mostly they look confused back.

"Dashing hat," Liv tells Dom.

"Isn't it?" Dom reaches up and pats at the brim. The skull and crossbones at the front is a bright green. "Bill gave it to me."

"Anniversary gift," Billy nods, rubbing Dom's shoulder.

"Which one is it?" Orlando asks him. He moves over and snatches the hat, placing it on his own head.

"Hey now!" Dom scowls, "just for that, I'm not going to tell you."

Bernard looks at Bean and rolls his eyes. "Departing now." He waves as he turns away, high-tailing it for the soundboard. Gabriel and the Missus were positioned there earlier, have been with them since the previous morning, actually, and Bean's not sure he's seen Bernard this relaxed since the start of the tour.

Elijah's watching Bernard leave as well. He shakes his head at Bean. "Three months back at home and she'll be begging us to take him away again."

"Well," Bean drawls. "He calls her the perfect partner for a reason, right?"

Just then Sala races into view. "Two minutes!" He looks around. "Where's bloody Astin?"

"I'll check," Liv nods. She heads towards the passage at the rear of the stage, but in a spectacular near-collision, Karl and Sean come around it at the same moment. There's some flailing and a quick dodge and grab by Karl to keep Liv from falling, then they head back, accompanied by enthusiastic applause from Daisy and Dom.

"In one piece?" Sala asks, herding them all together. He looks them over, each of them, top to bottom like they're carrying weapons. Then he nods his approval. "Ready then?"

The lights go down suddenly and it's all black except for the glow of a naked stage-light tucked back further into the wings. Bean gives the group a look over. The thing is, Sala asks this every time they're about to head on stage. Or disembark from a plane, or the bus. As if one day they might actually say something different. But, looking around at the group of them, really, honestly, Bean knows none of them would ever be able to say no. Some things are just fate.



Stage-Center, Behind the Drumkit, 8:53 pm

Bean's soaked through. He pulled off his top layer of clothing several songs ago and, if he was ten years younger, he'd pull off the last right about now. Instead, he does his best to shake the sweat out of his hair, and keeps the beat going on "Running Away From Fire".

He feels good, his body slowly relaxing. His arms go through three different stages during a show. First, he's rested and operates on manual. This means he tells his hands where to be and when, and they spring into position upon command. After several rounds of this he'll start to warm up. Eventually, his muscles begin to relax into the movement and then his arms will begin anticipating slightly, getting ready to move a beat or two before he needs them too.

What he's waiting for is the last stage. The moment when he realizes half a song has passed and he didn't need to think about what hand went where. When his feet press steadily into the floor and everything moves on automatic.

By the second stage however, he can start to look around a bit. Elijah's on a riser behind Liv, headphones half on, half off, and spinning in Jewish wedding music to accompany her and Polly. Elijah looks at Bean, which is the signal for Bean to pull his sticks back, and then Elijah throws a marching band's drum line into the mix.

When Liv starts heading towards the song's chorus, Elijah nods again and Bean slowly takes the beat back. At the last minute, he adds in a loud hello from the snare, which gets a grin from Dom, and then Daisy's voice joins in on the chorus. "You took me five years, five years and three days to get over, but--"

Both Liv and Daisy stop, looking out, and the audience screeches back.

"I'll take you for-ever. For never. What ever!"

The final Rrr is warbled back at a loud and horrible key which makes Daisy laugh hard enough that he can't take his end of the chorus back. He sputters into the microphone and Liv looks over at him, thumbing her nose and shaking her head, finishing the verse on her own. "That's what you get. Didn't clean up and I hated your pet!"

The chorus winds up being a good three minutes longer than normal due to a round of improvisational beat-boxing from Dom. By the time the song runs down, Bean's feeling a bit grateful that it's time for Viggo to orate and for the rest of them to take a break.

Viggo steps forward, pulling off the brown corduroy jacket he's been wearing for most of the tour to show his new "Impeach, Remove, Jail" shirt. He talks about landmine victims, war, and remembering to purchase fair trade coffee for a while. He's segueing off into something about clowns when Dom decides it's time to reel him in.

"One day we'll teach Orlando how to make coffee," Dom grins at the crowd. "Then all of you will know the apocalypse has come 'round."

"I'm practicing!" Orlando protests, of course, "I made a pot the other day and Viggo said it was fully drinkable."

"Not sure that helps your case there," Karl joins in, pulling his mandolin strap over his head and bending to retune.

Someone shouts, "Orlando's coffee is fucking awesome!" from the floor and Orlando looks around at the group, grinning. "Wellington's my favorite."

There's anther round of whooping and screaming from the audience, then Liv comes forward to restore order. She says they need to run a poll to determine which song to play next. The balcony is fully in favor of "Don't Let the Scotsman Cook Tonight", but the orchestra is in the "That's the Woe Talking" camp. Bean's hoping for Scotsman, he's feeling nostalgic.

Ultimately, Billy hijacks the whole thing by threatening dire consequences if they don't play "Carnies and Board Games" instead. Billy's threats, while rare, always have costs, and the band quickly throws up its collective hands, agreeing to terms.

After this, there's a brief pause while Billy teaches the audience a special pirate dance and instructs everyone on stage to join in as well, then they're off. A few beats into the second verse, Bean's running fully on automatic.



In the Wings, Stage-Left, 10:38 pm

Bean dives for a cigarette the second they're off the stage. Lawrence is there, pounding Karl on the back, and Liv's hopping in place next to him. The lights on stage are down, waiting until the demand for an encore builds enough for them to go back, and Roy comes dashing over to give Liv a hug, her tiara, and a swig of something that isn't water.

Bean takes a long, fast drag from his cigarette, watching them all. There's a rumbling that he can't place for a moment, then he realizes it's feet, the crowd's feet, stomping at the ground and making the floor vibrate beneath him.

Dom lets out a whoop. Then Sala's holding up his left hand, moving them all into something resembling a line with the other. Bean looks over at Viggo, rolling his eyes. "Does he think we forget?"

Viggo shrugs, then grabs Bean by the neck, pulling him in until their foreheads hit, hard. "Thanks," he says to Bean. "For coming back."

"Well," Bean leans in, grinning. "You needed a kick in the ass."

"Yeah," Viggo shrugs, then lets go of Bean's neck. He pulls away to rub at his forehead and finish the cigarette.

The crowd's clapping in unison now, getting faster and faster, but Sala shakes his head, grinning. "Give it a minute. Let 'em get good and wet." He looks out one last time, muttering something into his walkie-talkie, then he spins back, throws down his arm, and mouths "go!"

Bean heads out, walking back towards the familiar line of orange glow tape at the rear of the stage. He steps up to the drum kit and is pulling his sticks out of his back pocket just as the lights begin to come up.

He looks out at the crowd. Watching the faces, tops of hats, and hands that spread out across the floor, the balcony, the crush of bodies at the foot of the stage, everywhere. All of them swaying and flickering in the light. Then he pulls himself back, zooming out like a camera until he's back on stage and he can see everyone falling into place. Viggo finishes adjusting the strap on his guitorgan, Elijah's headphones are back in the half-on, half-off position, Sean's in place behind the bongos and Liv's wearing her tiara.

"Well, Wellington," Viggo leans into the microphone, speaking slowly. "I think. Well, I think we've decided to give you a few more."

He turns back to Bean, nods, and Bean hits his sticks together, once, twice, three times, so it can begin all over again.

k8, part 50(b)

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