16: "Is This War You're Waging?"
The knob of the door into
Anthony's hotel room turned half a revolution, then
paused.
CREAK!
The door slid open a few inches, revealing a
cringing face. Dark eyes peered through shocks of bleached blond strands, and
scanned left to right, then left again.
CREAK!
Another few inches.
Another cringe. A patent leather clad foot stepped out, toe firmly planted
before heel, and fingers slid along the doorframe. Knuckles rose over the
fingers. A wrist, a navy sports jacketed forearm, elbow, bicep. And shoulder.
The figure slipped his chiseled frame into the corridor, the second foot joining
the first.
A hand pressed against the lily bearing wallpaper, its bumpy
surface tickling his palm as he tiptoed down the hallway. Each step set down
more gently than the last.
The figure slithered down the hallway, eyes
fixed ahead. An elevator awaited him, its silver façade gleaming as the sun's
rays focused in upon it. A faint halo surrounded it.
"Hey,
Anthony!"
Anthony whirled around, his gaze falling upon a pair of
crescent shaped eyes. Glossy blue ones that blinked as fists raised and rubbed
them. The boxers sporting figure lowered a hand and gestured toward Anthony's
frame. "You're ready to go already?"
Moving his head up and down, Anthony
stared at the carpet and shuffled his feet. He raised his head to meet the
other's stare. "Sure am, Bri."
Brian gave his bandmate a crooked, weary
smile. "You headed for breakfast? Could you wait for me? I'll be ready in a
couple minutes."
He nodded. When Brian retreated back inside his room,
Anthony heaved a sigh. His eyelids hung heavy and shut, then lifted
again.
The elevator. Still silver. Still gleaming. Still mere feet away.
Anthony's left foot raised and lowered a step ahead. Right foot next took a
step. Each stride was longer than the last. His arm rose. His hand reached for
the panel beside the elevator. Index finger extended, all others folded in, it
closed in on a neon green "\/". Inches... centimetres...
"Where are you
going?"
Anthony froze. Eyes fixed on that glowing button, he replied,
"Breakfast." Gazing over his shoulder, his eyes met with a pair of cold, slated
ones. In an even tone, he asked, "You coming?"
Tapping foot drew
Anthony's attention to the other's black dress shoes. He glanced over the man's
tailored olive slacks, over his open sports jacket and the jet silk blouse
peering out its lapel. Pursing his lips, the individual shook his head. "You're
not going to breakfast," he stated, narrowing his eyes. "Damn it, Anthony! Where
are you going?"
Anthony threw his hands up in the air. Heaving a sigh,
eyes steady on the other's, he breathed, "I'm leaving, Michael."
"Sh**!"
Michael hissed, stomping his foot. His shoulders tensioned. "You know you can't
leave! You know we need to be on our way to Seattle in a couple hours!" He
raised a hand to a temple and wagged his head. "You know, this is just what I
need, coming off a high so rough."
Anthony took a deep breath and
released it. His index finger extended, he leaned into the button. The car
within the elevator shaft roared to life.
"Where the hell are you
going?"
"I'm going to go see Britney," Anthony answered, watching as
Michael lowered his hand and glared at him. And took a step forward.
"You
are not screwing this up for us," Michael growled through gritting teeth. "Not
so you can spend time with that bitch. Now John f***ed up enough for all of us.
Don't make matters worse."
The rattling behind the elevator door
increased. Anthony glanced at it, then returned his attention to his
bandmate.
Michael's face scrunched into a sneer. "Anthony, I
swear..."
DING!
The elevator door opened. Anthony paced backwards,
into the car.
"Grrr!" The guttural sound made Michael's neck vibrate.
Curling his fingers into claws, he barreled into Anthony. The two toppled to the
floor. A CRACK! Resounded as the base of Anthony's skull smashed into the side
of the elevator door. Michael latched onto his neck, digging thumbs into his
throat. Anthony squinted at the layers of metal over Michael's head, shoving his
arms and legs into the other's chest. His limbs weakening, the ceiling spinning.
He tossed his head from side to side and gagged. "Flea!" he managed to get out
as his limbs gave out. His head flopped to the side.
"Michael! Michael!"
He heard Brian's voice faintly over his throbbing eardrums. Hands lifted from
his neck, and he gulped all the oxygen the air would yield. Arms reached for
Anthony. They helped him to his feet.
Brian brushed the dust from his
friend's tousled hair. Puppy eyed and open mouthed, he asked, "What in the world
is going on?" He turned to Michael.
The Chili Pepper flung a finger in
Anthony's direction. "The bastard's taking off!"
"Why, Anthony?" Brian
pleaded. He gazed upon his friend with glossy eyes. "Why would you leave
us?"
Shaking his head, Anthony heaved a sigh. He closed his eyes. "I just
can't perform tonight."
Michael threw his arms in the air and snorted.
"Well that's convenient!"
Brian bit his lower lip. "But I thought you
like Nick. Why don't you want to perform with us?"
"I do, Bri!" Anthony
exclaimed, slinging an arm over Brian's shoulder. "I love all of you. But...
it's, it's not want so much as need..."
"F***!" Michael scowled. He paced
around the corridor, across the floor space in front of Anthony. "Not this sh**
again! What?" He glared at Anthony. Waving his arms over his head, he asked,
"Are the mystical creative f***ing forces out of whack again, Mr. Frusciante?
Are we screwing everything up for you?"
Anthony wagged his head. His arm
slipped off Brian's shoulder. "It has nothing to do with that." His eyes
fluttered shut. "You wouldn't understand," he mumbled under his
breath.
"We might understand! Please," Brain begged. "At least try to
tell us!"
Anthony rubbed his chin, then allowed the arm to drop to his
side. "All right," he sighed. "I don't know how, but somehow, sh..., ah, stuff
got screwed up, and I ended up in this reality." He trained his eyes on Brian's,
whose were frozen upon his. "I don't belong here."
The boy's eyes filled
with tears. "Really? Why not?"
"This is a load of sh**," Michael huffed.
He pointed down the corridor. "I'm just gonna get Lou! He'll set you straight!"
He marched down the hallway and slipped into a room. The door slammed behind
him. Anthony trembled.
Brian stood chewing on his lower lip and, through
slitted glossy eyes, gazed upon Anthony. "I don't understand."
Pounding
the elevator down button, Anthony said, "Sorry, Bri. I can't stay to explain it
to you. I have to get out of here."
"I know." Brian gulped. He paused,
and the two listened to the car ascending the elevator shaft. "Just be careful,
Anthony! Don't let Lou catch you! Or..."
DING!
The elevator door
opened.
"I know."
Brian hugged him.
"KIEDIS!" A voice
boomed behind them. Both jolted, and Anthony scurried into the elevator car. His
eyes met with Lou's. He slammed a finger into the 'door close' button. Again and
again.
Lou rushed for the door, his chunky legs jiggling as he neared the
Chili Pepper. Anthony stared with wide eyes as the door closed in his manager's
face.