“Oh my God! It’s Mickey Nicks!” Lizzy’s shrill, excited scream echoed through the room and she got up, ran like the wind, and jumped on the new arrival.

“Oh! Hey there…” The new man exclaimed, forcing Lizzy away from him and then blatantly checking her out. He then lowered his sunglasses and looked around the living room. Two more men, dressed in similar clothes but not as flamboyant as Mickey, entered the room.

“There you are, man. We thought you were fuckin’ dead in a ditch or something. Why the fuck do you have to disappear like that? We looked all over the mansion for you—well, at least they did.” He nodded to the other guys. ”Well anyway, good to know that you’re alive and all that.”

“What are you doing here, Mickey?” Arsen’s jaw was clenched and Rory could make out that he was not happy to see this Mickey person.

“What do you mean? I am here to rescue you. I am the fucking knight in white shining horse or whatever.” The man broke into a huge laugh, pleased with himself for some reason.

“But… Where’s Don? I asked him to come, not you,” Arsen replied sternly.

“Aren’t you the most ungrateful?” he replied with a shocked look on his face. I agree with you there, Rory thought. “I worried about you so much, man. I couldn’t sleep all night. “

“Are you sure it was because of worrying for me or maybe it had something to do with the ton of coke you snort every night?” Arsen chuckled.

“Why you gotta be nasty like that, man? Why the fuck?” Mickey glared at Arsen. Rory could feel the heat between the two men rising, and the look Arsen gave Mickey made her feel as if he was going to punch him any second now.

“Shut up, Mickey. Bobby, where is Don?” Arsen asked.

“Hey!” Mickey shouted. “I am talking to you. Show some respect, asshole.” Arsen looked at him calmly but underneath he seemed anything but.

“Mickey. This is not about you. So shut. The hell. Up!” Arsen wagged his finger at Mickey.

“See this fucking guy? That’s why I can’t work with him anymore.” Mickey turned to the other guys and complained. He seemed like someone who always wanted to be the center of attention, even in a serious situation like this.

“Then don’t? I’d like to see you find someone else who will put up with your bullshit,” Arsen snorted sarcastically.

“Oh yeah! I will. Don’t you worry about that. I am the soul of this band and there is no Insurrection without Mickey Nicks.” He looked at Lizzy for an approval of his statement, but she was too intimidated by this confrontation to say anything. For Rory, however, this was thoroughly entertaining.

“Say Mickey, how is the weather up there in delusion land?” Arsen said with a huge grin on his face. It even made Rory snort and Mickey noticed.

“That’s it. I am taking you down.” Mickey took off his sunglasses and rushed toward Arsen. Rory could tell that the tension between these men wasn’t just born right at that moment. It had simmered for far too long, waiting to boil over. The other two guys rushed to hold back Mickey. Arsen was already on his feet, ready to launch a punch.

Rory imagined how badly his ankle must be hurting right in that moment as he got up, but he didn’t show any sign of it on his face. Like a wounded tiger, he stood there, ready to take on the fight. You gotta admire a man for that.

“Fellas! What is going on here? I can’t be away for one second without y’all getting into some trouble?” A short, fat, balding man with an air of authority entered the room.

Arsen was fuming inside. He was a second away from knocking out Mickey, and deep inside he felt that it was high time he did so.

He was sick of Mickey’s extravagant ways. He was sick of dealing with an unprofessional hack. Whatever happened to the guy who lived and breathed music?

Don’s presence calmed him down. At least now he knew that everything would be taken care of, and soon he would be back to his regular life. The life that I’m trying to run away from?

The accident last night had shaken him. He didn’t remember when he had passed out, but he had nightmares all night long. Every little sound in that old house woke him up from his slumber. It didn’t help that the girl who lived in the house came down to keep watch on him at least three times last night. Who does she think I am? A thief?

The girl’s smug attitude and her self-righteous way annoyed him. Her glances made him feel as if she were constantly judging him. Even right now she is sitting there self-satisfied, perhaps laughing inside at how dumb these rockstars look.

Shame that someone with such a pretty face has such a shitty attitude, he thought.

The moment she walked in this morning, he had realized that she was even prettier than she appeared in the dark of the night. He loved her shiny, long, auburn hair and the fact that she wasn’t skinny beyond belief. Real women were curvy, he always believed, and back home in LA, they rarely were.

The other girl had been terribly sweet to him, but she was too chirpy, too bubbly, and way too completely in awe of the fact that he was a celebrity. Arsen knew tons of girls like that. Nonetheless, he was thankful to her for all that she had done for him.

The other one, Rory, is so damn serious. But haven’t I had enough of party girls already? he pondered. He was intrigued if there was more to her than met the eye. Why is she living all by herself in this enormous house? What is behind that hidden glimpse of melancholy in her eyes? Behind that overbearing tone of worry in her voice?

“Hey kid, are you all right? What’s going on here?” Don came and sat right next to him on the couch and asked in his usual tone of fatherly concern. Arsen paused to reflect on his thoughts before he spoke.

“Just a little accident.” Arsen paused as he heard a scoffing sound from Rory’s direction. What’s her deal? he wondered. Sarcastic beyond belief and constantly mocking. “I crashed the Ferrari into the back wall out there and damaged my ankle a little.” Another scoffing sound from Rory.

Arsen looked up and stared at her. She stared back, something she’d been doing all along, as if they were in a staring match. “Perhaps Rory here can do a better job of explaining the events than me.” He smirked back at her.

“Hello there, Rory. I’m Don. I assume you’re the owner of this house?”

“Yes.”

“I am sorry about the accident, sweetheart. These things happen, but I do promise you I will have it fixed for you tout suite.” Rory nodded at Don’s reassurance. No scoffing sounds this time; those are reserved only for me, Arsen thought.

“I am sure Arsen is sorry for all this. So am I. We shouldn’t be disrupting your life like this.” Don made the apologetic face that he was so good at making. One of the reasons why he was the best in the business. He always adapted to the situation instantly and made himself appear whatever he needed to be.

“Thank you so much for taking care of my boy here. Y’know how boys are. They can get rowdy sometimes.” Don spoke in a matter-of-fact tone and Rory nodded in agreement. Arsen knew that Don could sense some hostility between him and Rory, and he was irked at the stupid picture Don was painting of him. But what do I care what she thinks of me? I’m never going to see her again.

“Thanks, Don. That really paints me in a favorable light,” he couldn’t help but mutter. Hell would freeze over before he’d have himself called silly in front of that proud girl. Don gave him a stern look as if to say, “Shut up and let me handle this.” Arsen merely shrugged.

“Are we fucking done here? Don, you said we were just coming to pick up Arsen and then we’d be off. I left the hot tub running back at the villa,” Mickey whined.

Always the selfish one. I knew you didn’t come on your own, you jackass. Don made you come here. Don was desperate to patch things up between his two superstars but so far, he’d failed miserably.

“Take it easy, Mickey. Why don’t you go outside in the garden and let me handle this,” Don said in his authoritative tone.

“Good idea! Let me show you around, Mickey. I’d love to!” Lizzy exclaimed. Mickey shrugged his shoulder, put his arm around her, and walked out.

If there was one thing that Mickey loved, it was women. The younger the better, he always said. You can put him in the worst of situations, but if a petite, young, good-looking girl was involved, he would get through it without a sigh. Rory, however, didn’t seem too happy at the idea, and her eyes followed both of them as they walked out.

“As I was saying… do you want me to cut you a check for the damages or should I have someone fix it?”

“Either would be fine,” Rory replied. She seemed much calmer in Don’s presence than she was before. Not the first time the old man had had this effect on someone.

“Okay, I’ll get it fixed for you. Let me also compensate you for letting Arsen stay overnight.’

“That’s okay. I would’ve done the same for anybody else. No big deal,” Rory replied.

“See, she’s the kind of nice people we need more of in this world.” Don turned to Arsen for an affirmative reaction to his statement, but got none. “Bless you, girl. You’ve done a huge favor to me and to the music world by taking care of him. We were very worried when we couldn't find him all night. I’ve barely slept a wink and all my staff have been running around trying to locate him.”

With Don at least, Arsen could believe it. No way in hell did he believe that Mickey spent a sleepless night worrying about him. He probably spent the night with a bunch of women while on three different kinds of drugs at the same time.

Arsen was sure that if Mickey could fire him from the band, he would. But both he and Don knew Arsen’s value to Insurrection. Arsen often chuckled at the thought of Mickey or the rest of the guys writing songs without him. The rest of the guys were nice for the most part, but Arsen knew that they couldn’t put together a tune to save their lives.

“I also have some swag for you.” Don pulled out a bag that he had carried in with him. “A bunch of stuff that is signed by the whole band. I hope you like it.” Rory seemed confused, but accepted the gift. Don’s old trick to get people on his side—give away free signed merchandise.

“Thanks. I am sure my friend Lizzy would love all of this.”

Oh yes, your friend would. Because you are too high and mighty to care about our stupid little band, Arsen thought. He felt strange at feeling resentful toward her. For someone with a pleasant, girl-next-door look, she always seemed to be in a bad mood. How could someone so attractive be such a crank? And why do I care what she thinks?

From the sound on the windows, rain had started to drizzle down and for once, Arsen started to relax. There was something about sitting in this old house with its great acoustics, vintage décor, and homey feel, that lent him a calm that was missing back at the rented villa. He zoned out and turned his thoughts away from the band.

Instead, he was taking in the room, admiring the numerous paintings that were hung on the old walls. There was vintage furniture that one would usually find in a grandmother’s house, and large glass windows that gave the house a very open, spacious look. Voices traveled through the room, hit the walls, and their faint echo—that could only be perceived by the ears of a trained musician—traveled back to Arsen. This house would make a great studio.

Most of all there was a certain vibe to this house. Something he could not put his finger on. It reminded him of that story about the legendary Rolling Stones and how they had hired a villa just like this in the south of France to record their hit album, Exile On Main St. Arsen had always wanted to do that and it was part of the reason why he had come to Montcove—to find his own exile.

He’d thought that by locking themselves up in a villa, the band would work hard and write some quality songs, being away from LA and all the temptations that came with it. Little did he know that Mickey would ensure that all of those temptations followed them here too. In the end, the trip so far had been nothing but a long party. Now more than ever, Arsen was sick of it all.

He just wanted to sit in a room with his guitar and write some songs. If I owned this house, I would instantly make a studio in here. The natural reverb in this place would be worth any hassle.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of thunder outside. Everyone else in the room looked out the windows too. Does it ever stop raining here? It doesn’t rain this much even in London.

Thunderous sounds from the sky were followed by the sounds of running feet. Lizzy and Mickey came rushing inside, half drenched. A fierce wind banged the door behind them and even Mickey’s chauffeur came in to take refuge.

“There’s a storm coming, I think.”

“Yeah, looks like it,” Lizzy said, straightening her wet hair with her hands. The next lightning strike was really loud. A strong downpour was unleashing itself on Montcove.

“Is that, like, a hurricane or something?” Mickey said nervously. Arsen chuckled at the city boy and his ignorance.

“Can we get out of here fast?” Don asked the chauffeur.

“We could try, sir, but the roads must be full of water. They were already slippery when I was sitting out in the drizzle, and with sports cars, we run the risk of another accident.”

“No more accidents. No, we are not taking that risk,” Don said.

The rain came accompanied by fierce winds that made the doors and the windows thrash wildly. It also got darker. Though he was inside and dry, Arsen already felt the temperature drop and a cold wind nagging at him. I’ve spent too much time in sunny LA.

“Everybody calm down. It's just a storm, not a hurricane.” Rory stood up and addressed everyone, aiming the last part of her comment at Mickey. “Lizzy, go shut the doors and the windows,” she commanded.

“This will pass in no time at all. Just stay put till then,” she said with a pained expression on her face. Her eyes met Arsen’s and he had a feeling that she wasn’t too happy about still having them all in her house. Have we become that despicable that normal people can’t stand us anymore? The thought saddened him. As he looked around at his bandmates, he realized that they had indeed gone completely out of control.