peter-jacks - Tumblr blog

[peter-jacks]

Concentrating on his guitar, Pete had barely looked at the crowd for their entire set, not until Jack nudged him and nodded over to the two lanky girls in the front. His eyes scanned the brunette from head to toe, and a small smirk set on his lips as he turned to his mate, their expressions identical. He tried his best not to be obvious, but he couldn't help stealing a glance every few minutes.

Once he was off stage, shots were thrust into his hands, and he wasn't one to refuse. Laughing along at something Bobby was saying, he combed his fingers through his hair absent-mindedly, glancing around the packed room, wondering who more than half of the people were. His drink had been knocked out of his hand, and he was just about to turn around and tell whoever was falling into him to fuck off when he was met with the same brunette from the crowd. 

A sloppy smirk sat on his lips as he watched her struggle to form a sentence, and he didn't speak for a minute or two, laughing lightly as he reached into his pocket. Pulling out his cigarettes, he flicked one in between his fingers, handing it off to her before he set one between his own lips. "You got a name, love? Maybe then you won't seem so strange." he asked, his Liverpool accent painfully obvious as he offered her a light. 

|| clad in all black || peter & marianne

London, 1968 ——

‘Come see the boys, Annie; they’re brilliant, you’ll love them!’ That was the declaration that Ruby had promised Marianne as the models dragged themselves towards the small, but pulsing and quite frankly packed venue that had previously hosted some of the biggest names in the scene. Not that it really mattered much to Marianne Ashwood, she already had her ‘in’ with that sort of crowd. No, no, all she desperately craved that evening was just one successful night out. 

And the boys had delivered quite a show —- they were brilliant and Ruby kept pointing out the blonde in the front, shouting in Marianne’s ear about how talented he was. Sure, he was nice, but the brunette found herself nearly magnetized to the brooding brunette boy, passionately playing his guitar, commanding her attention without even remotely asking for it. The attraction was strange and immediate; Marianne tried to play it off as side effect of the mass amounts of liquor she’d consumed. 

Perhaps that was why the brunette had found herself so polarized when she found herself being tugged backstage by her companion and, in the rush of post-show activity, was practically shoved into the guitarist she’d been quietly admiring from the front row. “Er, sorry, it’s—-,” she began, fumbling over her words so uncharacteristically; tripping over herself in front of men wasn’t a problem she was particularly used to having. Before she could blink, the room had nearly emptied, with everyone paired off with their respective consorts for the evening. How quaint.

“Fuck,” she exhaled sharply, lifting her green gaze to briefly catch his. “Does this happen to you often? Y’know, thrown together with a strange woman? I mean, I promise I’m not strange, I’m just —- drunk, if that part wasn’t entirely obvious.” Shut up, Marianne, please shut up. ”Have you… have you got a cigarette, by chance? Maybe that’ll quiet me up, yeah?” 

[peter-jacks]

Well then, I suppose that there's still a pretty alright chance that we'll be okay..

I do love an empty arena.

God, there was never anything serious with Jack to begin with! We were both angry at you, we both wanted to hurt you, and apparently, we succeeded — if anything, this entire ordeal has pushed us further apart. We were friends who took things much too far, that’s it. So, no, I don’t have feelings for him, you can rest easy.

[peter-jacks]

Right, well if you're done crying about your struggles, can I go to bed now?

I do love an empty arena.

I tried and you just said you wanted to go back to bed..to make you feel better you’ve got to be willing to help me help you but you’re worse than a toddler Peter…

[peter-jacks]

You do realise you are trying to make me tell you how you're supposed to make me feel better, right? Do you realise how fucking stupid that sounds? If you can't figure something out, just leave it. I'll get over it eventually.

I do love an empty arena.

Jesus Christ Peter- What do you want from people..I’m trying to be a friend and I don’t know what to do to help and you’re not making this easy to figure out either. 

[peter-jacks]

I'm not even going to argue that.

Well, what's going on with you and Jack? If there's nothing, and there'll never be nothing, then, yeah, I can see us getting back together. But if you have any sort of fucking feelings for the bastard, then we're done. For good.

I do love an empty arena.

I think the phrase ‘we were just too fucked up to notice’ applies to nearly every aspect of our relationship.

Because I don’t know what to do anymore! Let’s just bloody settle this: are you truly well and done with me? Because if that’s the case, I’ll leave in the morning. But if there’s even a sliver of hope that things aren’t fucked up entirely, then I’ll… stay, I suppose. I know what I want; what do you want?

[peter-jacks]

I was being sarcastic, Plant. I'm happier drunk than I am sober, so you're all lucky that I'm turning into an alcoholic. Well aren't you something? Above us all? And a roadie? Who would have thought? Been there, done that. The one about Ben is called "Fuck you, you Bastard." It's quite beautiful.

I'd have pegged me as the same, to be honest. But they're all fucking irritating and blonde, it's no fun. `You are moody today! You're taking every little thing I say as offensive, and usually you just ignore it. See? You're a boring bastard. Would you not like to see Liam all angry? Not even a slight bit of you? Oli is beyond fixing at this point, it turns my stomach just to look at him, and I'm avoiding Ben, you know, since I've pretty much ruined every concert. 

You consider us friends? Well, that's a bit of a shocker, but I suppose I'll take it. It'll annoy Liam. Just focus on one thing, and then go from there. Thinking of everything at once will get you nowhere.

I don't have that kind of money, don't be stupid. Ben takes most of it, Marianne's spent more than half, and I really don't want to risk jail. I mean, look at me, I'd never survive.

I do love an empty arena.

End up like you? Peter, you’re very talented, I’ll give you that, but you’re an unhappy drunk… I don’t even think you want to be like you. I don’t think I want to be like anybody on this tour, you all look so miserable; I’m content with myself, thanks. Well, there’s other things to write about, too - money hungry managers and the lot, could be a good laugh.

One person? That’s actually impressive, I’d have you pegged as bedding every single groupie we’ve got around here. I’m not moody! He probably wouldn’t be too happy, which is why we are not kissing and you are not going to tell him anything of the sort. Oh, it’s not about having a fucking backbone, it’s about picking and choosing my battles - pissing off Liam just because you’re bored is not exactly a battle I’d willingly go for. Just do what I do - bug the shit out of Oliver and Ben.

Well, I’m always around because there isn’t much else to do around here, you know. And I’d reckon you and I are… sort of friends? I’m not scared! It’s just… a lot, and I don’t know how to process it lyrically.

You know… you’ve got enough ‘fuck you’ money to leave and hire the best lawyers to get you out of your contract, why stick around then?

[peter-jacks]

I bet everyone had a bet going on our wedding night. We were just too fucked up to notice. 

I don't want the fucking money, M. Seriously you change your mind more times than Oliver changes the lyrics.

I do love an empty arena.

I wonder how many people had bets going on when we’d eventually fuck it all up - I know my sister had a few hundred pounds going on it, she’ll be happy to hear about this.

You can keep the money, I think I can probably still get my old place from the modelling days.

[peter-jacks]

Cool.

I do love an empty arena.

I don’t know how to deal with this Peter. I want to help, to make you not feel like shit but this is out of my capacity here. I do know going back to bed wont make it better..it’s not good, it’s depressing- you are better than that. 

[peter-jacks]

You might as well tell them, they'll find out eventually anyway. Everyone's going to find out eventually. 

Well then we might as well sell it. 

I do love an empty arena.

Maybe you should learn to stifle your moans! Eh, I haven’t quite gotten around to telling them, figures they’ll only give me the ‘I told you so’ speech, and nobody needs that. Besides, my mother’s a chatterbox, she’d slip it to the tabloids. I haven’t really told anyone, actually; not outside of the people who know about this mess.

Well, neither do I. I’m not living with those fucking memories.

[peter-jacks]

Please do. 

No, Rena, I'm not in the mood. I think I'm just going to go back to bed for the day.

I do love an empty arena.

Well..I can slip laxatives in his tea and hope he shits on stage but for now, lets go- Get up. We’re going on a mini road trip…and we’re borrowing a car.

[peter-jacks]

No, I'm actually not. And right now, the last thing I want to do is be around Jack, so yes, this tour is a fucking travesty for me.

And I can't fucking get out of it.

I do love an empty arena.

Ok Mrs.Havisham..Don’t be a joke Peter. You’re much better than that- 

[peter-jacks]

I'd go home and fucking hide away in my new house. 

I do love an empty arena.

Finish the contract..Do you think Ben is going to let you back out because you miss a few cords? What would you do when you go home? Leave the band? Go solo?

[peter-jacks]

Well if your bed wasn't so fucking squeaky, they mightn't have suspected. I suppose he'll be glad to hear about our split then? And your mother? The looks she used to give me, fucking brilliant. 

I don't want the house. 

I do love an empty arena.

God, that was embarrassing! I think that was the same night we agreed to get our own flat… or at least only fuck at Oliver’s place. They still bring it up, you know - my dad refers to you ‘Eight Inches Pete,’ which is wrong on so many levels.

Yeah, yeah, thanks for the support. I’ll clear out my shit from our place - it’s probably a giant mess right now, fuck.

[peter-jacks]

Ugh, you're a dry shite, Plant. Grow some balls, have a little fun, you'll end up like me then. Don't you want to be like me? I'm such a good fucking role model. You'd be surprised how repetitive it gets, actually. I'm sure I've written a thousand songs on all of the subjects you just mentioned.

Ah, bit of an exaggeration there now. I've slept with one person since my wife ruined my marriage, so you're wrong. I'm just joking, Jesus, you're a moody little fucker today, aren't you? Would he lose it if he heard that we kissed? I'd fucking love to see his face. Sometimes I wish you weren't so dry, Plant, we could have a lot of fun pissing people off if you had a backbone. 

I never asked you to listen. You always seem to appear out of nowhere, for a while I was convinced that you were following me. Oh well that's just bullshit, there's never too much going on for a song, you're just scared. 

Not one bit.

I do love an empty arena.

Fuck that! I don’t care if you guys are miserable on this tour, that’s your own business and clearly everyone’s got their own issues about it, but I’m not putting my already flimsy ‘career’ on line for it! Well, so far, we’ve got adultery, drugs, and complimentary champagne bars… I’d say that’s a good share of inspiration.

No, but these days, you’re always trying to kiss somebody aren’t you? Come on, I get drunk at a party, kiss a few people and I’m labeled promiscuous? Meanwhile, the rest of you lot are chasing skirts and it’s no big deal? Double standards, I’ll tell ya! Liam’s got a temper, definitely, and we do get into the occasional argument, but me kissing Ben Potts of all people is not something to make a big deal out of, especially since we weren’t together when it happened.

Eh, and your problems are pretty minuscule to me in return, the only difference is that I kind of get paid to listen to you. Trust me, I’d rather not know about your personal life, and I’m sure you feel the same. I have too much going on, I don’t know how to fit it into a song.

Mm, so the girls and the money, they aren’t worth it?

[peter-jacks]

How else am I supposed to get home?

I do love an empty arena.

Well stop, you aren’t making the band look bad you’re making you look bad. Besides I miss hearing good music..

[peter-jacks]

You do know that cocaine is a drug, right? You are aware that you are messing up whatever the fuck it messes up by taking it, yeah? Just checking.. I think I wrote it the night after your parents caught us fucking.. It's actually a joke, the whole song. Pretty funny.

Ugh do what you want, I don't even care anymore.

I do love an empty arena.

I like coke, love, there’s a difference, I don’t really touch anything else. Weed just makes me tired, and the rest of that stuff… well, it’s just a bloody nightmare. When did you write this song then?

What’s my purpose here, Peter? I originally came out here to support you, and now… well, now it’s a giant mess. We’re in different rooms, nobody else is really speaking to me, what’s left for me here? What’s left of us? I’m really just taking up space and grating on your nerves.

[peter-jacks]

Well I would hope I sound better than usual, I've been messing up on purpose you sod.

I do love an empty arena.

Well I can take this vodka and turn around, but thats the best I’ve heard you play in months!