The Hypothetical Game
Sometimes I have awesome thoughts and radical ideas. (By sometimes, I mean, so often that I can't keep keep track of all of the awesome thoughts and radical ideas filling up on the inside of my mind.) Recently, when faced with an important decision—to choose someone to play the role of Aussie rock superstar Michael Hutchence (RIP), for a... dramacomedic...dramedic... reading of part two of INXS fan fiction authored by me circa 1988 at this month's Cringe Reading Night, I thought to myself, "Maybe my lilty, baritoned, bespectacled, boy-who-likes-boys friend Jonathan Taylor!" I asked him if he would do it and he said YES!
When he and I met for dinner before the reading last night, he told me he'd been practicing his lines, which I formatted in boldface for him, and that he thought they were really funny. "The whole thing is really funny!" he exclaimed. But then he also admitted that he'd only read the lines that were in boldface.
People who were not there last night, it was a stroke of casting genius on my part. Jonathan was AWESOME. Jonathan STOLE THE SHOW! AND I'M NOT EVEN MAD THAT HE TOTALLY UPSTAGED ME!!!!! Honestly, it was as if the role was written for him, even though it was actually a real live dead famous person.
After Cringe, where Amy Shapiro taught me to blink in Morse Code and some brunette in the back kept staring at me expressionless, I went to Barrette with some people. This was the same bar in which I was spotted canoodling with a blonde by the paparazzi (by paparazzi, I mean me). There was a cute guy with a beard who kept looking at me from across the bar. (Note to self: Craig's List Missed Connections - "BEARD @ BARRETTE" Wed, 1:30am.) Then we went to Sepia Bar, and then I went home. I think it was good that I started drinking club soda at the bar, after three and a half glasses of wine, because when I woke up this morning, my coat and scarf were actually hanging up in my closet and the jeans I had been wearing were folded and put away. SO, OBVIOUSLY, I think it's safe to say I do not have a drinking problem as previously thought! PHEW!
Today I re-read last night's part two of my INXS story (inexplicably called "Begotten," by the way) and I kept hearing Jonathan's voice in my head. It made me happy, and also I like to shamelessly self-promote, so I thought I'd post it here. Even though you can't hear it the way I do, it doesn't matter because what is most important are my feelings.
One more thing. If Michael Hutchence is reading this right now from a free wi-fi cafe up in heaven, I would just like to tell him that I miss him, I wish I'd made out with him when I had the hypothetical chance, and I think it's really sad that he did what he did and I find myself asking, in the dark of night, "Why? Why? Why?" But the night has no answer. We could have been great together.
AFTER THE JUMP: Begotten (Part 2)
PREFACE: The anonymous, sixteen-year-old heroine of the story (um, me) has won a radio contest and gets to hang out with INXS in a recording studio and attend one of their concerts. I also have them over at my dad's house in Newton, Massachusetts. At the end of part one, Michael Hutchence and I have hit it off while partying with the rest of the band at the studio. Wanting to be alone with me, Michael asks his manager, Shelley, if he can borrow her Ferrari to escape...
Michael stood up and took her hand, then he turned to Shelley. "Hey, Toots. Borrow your keys?"
Shelly reached into her bag and tossed Michael the keys to the Ferrari. "Take it easy on the clutch, Michael."
Michael guided his new friend into the passenger seat. "Where are we going?" She asked.
"It's a surprise! ...So, where was it that you saw us play the first time? At The Orpheum?"
"No. It was during the summer of '86 at Great Woods."
"Yeah, yeah! I remember that gig. It was with The Del Fuegos, right? Bostonians. Yeah, we had fun with them."
"And that band New Man played at that show also," she replied.
"Oh, good on ya!"
She looked at him questioningly and he laughed.
"That means, like, 'way to go!'"
They turned down the winding streets and she was impressed by how well he knew his way around Boston. She couldn't get over the fact that she was cruising around in a Ferrari, alone with Michael Hutchence, without anyone knowing exactly where she was or what she was doing. She could imagine one of her friends sitting at home thinking, "Oh my God, you KNOW she's out with Michael Hutchence right now...!"
They pulled up with a screech into an empty parking lot. A blue door marked STAGE was within her view.
Michael opened her car door for her.
"Here we are."
"What is this place?" she asked.
"You’ll see..."
Michael took her hand, lead her through a long, white hallway to a red-carpeted, dimly lit lobby and into a narrow entrance. Suddenly, she was in a huge, silent auditorium with a beautiful, empty stage staring back at her. It was the Worcester Centrum!
Michael threw an arm around her shoulder. "Well, sweetheart, what d'ya think? This is where we'll be seein' ya in four days. Only it won't be as intimate as this!"
She looked up at him and smiled at him in admiration. "God, this is SO amazing! It's breathtaking!" She said. The rows of seats were dark, but parts of the stage were lit up with yellow spotlights. It was like nothing she had ever seen before. Michael took her by the hand—yet again—and sat her down in the front row and walked up to the stage.
"I love this place cuz it's so big. It can be freaky, though, when we're up here playing for an empty hall during sound check and the music just echoes all the way to the back there. The concert halls back home aren't this big, except for Colston Hall in Bristol."
He sat on a stool in the center of the stage. He picked up a beige guitar and began playing. Right away she recognized the song. It was the incredible, emotional hit "Never Tear Us Apart" from their latest album, "Kick." She watched his every move. There was so much going on in his eyes, and in that brain. The fact that she was there with him and he was now singing for her was just so far up over her head that it could have floated right through the roof above her seat and never come back. His mere presence was almost too much for her to handle. The sound of his sultry and unique voice seeped in and flooded her brain...
"We could live
For a thousand years
And if I hurt you I'd make wine
From your tears.
I told you that we could fly
Cuz we all have wings
But some of us
Don't know why.
I was standing
You were there
Two worlds collided
And they could
Never tear us apart..."
Michael stood up and put the guitar down. Then, all in one movement, he kicked the stool over, making it slide across the floor into the dark shadows behind him, jumped to a sitting position downstage with his legs dangling over the edge, threw his sexy, long curls back away from his face, and placed his eyes upon her intensely. His face was like no other she had ever seen before.
He told her to come up and sit next to him and she did. He tugged on the belt of her black leather motorcycle jacket. "Do you like punkers, or do you just like wearing this leather jacket?"
"I like a lot of things," she said. He laughed and they smiled and stared at each other. She wanted to say "I love you" in that moment, but knew she could never say anything like that to someone like him. He was under America's watchful eye, famous, untouchable, nine years older than her, and he had a girlfriend.
"You look like you could be an actress. Is that what you want to be? An actress?"
"I dunno," she said. "I dunno what I want to be. I don't think I could ever pull off acting, though."
"Why are you so self-conscious? I sit here, just meeting you for the first time, and I can see you're really special."
She just wanted to run her fingers across the side of his face. "I'm not always what I seem," she told him.
"I used to be like that, believe it or not. I mean, you know our story. For a while there it was like we were living in a bloody black hole that we couldn't get out of. Before our third album came out—"
"—You mean "Shabooh Shoobah"? I love that album. It's actually the first one of yours I bought. Then I bought the first and second ones."
"Yeah, see, I love that album too. But with the albums before that, we just didn't know where we were headed. We were like on a road to nowhere, right? I mean, we were playing in these clubs, you know, in Australia and England, in the middle of nowhere—all these sleazy, scummy, stinkin' clubs where people would sometimes throw things at us. I always felt like, 'what the hell are we doing here?' But then we hit our stride. Now we know who we are. It's great knowing where we stand... thanks heaps to you and your mates!"
LATER THAT NIGHT: At her house with the whole band...
With a half full can of Foster's Lager, Jon strutted down the hall into the kitchen and Tim, Garry, Kirk and Andy followed. Jon sat on the kitchen counter in the same exact position he was sitting in in one of the posters she had in her room. Michael was standing in the middle of her bedroom.
"I'm gonna miss you guys so much when you leave," she said. "I know I'll see you at the concert in a couple of days, but it won't be the same. You'll seem so far away."
"If only you were a few years older," He told her. Her face felt like it was on fire. "I think you're great," he said. "I mean, I'm really taken with you. And at the concert we'll be close, you'll see."
They sat down on her bed with their backs leaning against the wall underneath the black and white James Dean poster and the photo of Michael himself from Spin magazine. The real Michael was staring at the opposite wall, at the huge poster of his band that she got the first time she had ever seen them in concert. Everything felt so natural, but she still couldn't believe it was really happening. Was it a dream? The feelings were even more intense than the first time she saw her last boyfriend.
She could hear the other guys talking and cackling down the hall. How she loved every single one of them. She knew that when it was time for them to go she would kiss and hug all of them one by one, but she didn't know how she would say goodbye to Michael. She was lost in her thoughts when she realized that the warm feeling on the back of her neck was Michael's arm wrapped casually around her.
"Do you believe in God?" She asked him.
"Sometimes," he said.
"Sometimes I do, too."
A FEW DAYS LATER: At the concert
“Alriiiight! Are we havin' a fuckin' good time here, or what?!" Michael yelled. The screaming in the audience was deafening. Jon gave a drum roll ending in a triumphant crash of golden symbols. Michael took a drink from a red plastic cup and walked back over to the microphone. Then he spotted her, like he was afraid he never would, there in the third row.
"Hey, there's a girl here in the third row that I know..." he said. Everyone started screaming even louder and Michael pointed to her. "...Right there with the long black hair and the red dress."
All around her people were shouting and whistling for the band. Then the spotlight hit her. She felt the biggest rush of her life in her heart, face, and stomach. All eyes were on her, especially his eyes.
"Quiet down, everybody. I wanna... I wanna say something here. That's a friend of mine. And what I wanna say is... REMEMBER HER FACE!"
