Peter had woken up in the motel the next morning to a brutal reminder in is head that he had band practice in just an hour. With no time to go into his house and change his clothes, he rushed out of the bed where Natalie still lay sleeping and hastily scribbled a note, leaving it on the nightstand. He didn't want Natalie to wake up alone with no explanation. He sprinted down the street to make it to the his driveway, hopped in his car, and drove off, feeling like yesterday's party. He didn't even have time to feel hungover, even though he most definitely was.
He peeled down the road as fast as he could without getting stopped all the way to the studio. He skidded into a parking spot when he got there, and rushed into the studio. He didn't have his own bass or any instruments of his own with him; he'd have to use the ones the studio provided for today.
"Hey Peter, thought we lost ya," said Davy as Peter arrived at the rehearsal.
"I forgot," said Peter. He grabbed one of the studio basses and started tuning up.
"Stephen told us about last night," said Micky, pulling Peter to the side. "Is she cool?"
"Natalie?" asked Peter, checking his tuning. "Yeah, as far as I know. I sort of had to ditch her at the motel, but she ended up okay last night."
"Wait, what?" said Mike, overhearing. "You stayed the night with Natalie? Come on man, she's just a kid, you can do better than that."
"Well, someone should have told you that last year," snapped Peter, quick as a whip. There was a very loud silence among the band members; they remembered what Peter was talking about. Mike glared at Peter, who was back to tuning his bass. Peter knew he shouldn't have gone there; not even Stephen knew what happened after Monterey Pop.
"But all that aside," said Micky, sitting up at the drumset. "It's okay to have feelings."
"Dammit Mick, she's only nineteen!" Peter snapped. "Just quit it, will ya?"
"I agree with Peter, we've gotta get going," said Davy. "Plus we gotta get this done cause tonight Linda and I've got a date with a bottle of bubbly and two pairs of lips, if ya know what I mean!"
Peter sighted. Recently in these rehearsals, he was forced to remember that he was the only single Monkee now. Mike, Davy, and Micky were all married. Not happily all the time, but married just as well. As much as Peter didn't care much at all for the strictness of marriage, he still envied their female companions.
"Remind me never to party the night before a rehearsal again," said Peter, who was just calming down enough to feel his hangover.
"I'm here to hold your hand buddy," said Micky. Peter grinned and the group started to get down to the grindstone. Melbourne was only a few weeks away, and Peter wanted to be ready for this last tour with the band.
At the motel:
Natalie awoke to find herself alone in bed. She sat up, stretched, and looked around. Maybe Peter was downstairs already? She really hoped nothing stupid happened with him last night. She rolled over to see a sheet of paper held underneath the clock on the nightstand. Frowning, she leaned over and grabbed it. It said:
Hey Natalie!
Sorry if you wake up after me, but I remembered I had a practice this morning. If you choose to stay here it's cool, just give Steve a call and he'll let me know when I get back home, but you can head back if you want to also; the party should have wrapped up by now. Anyway—I'll see you later!
-Peter
Natalie shrugged and put the note back on the nightstand. She sat around for a moment, wondering what she would want to do. She was still in the same dress she was in last night, and she was sure her makeup was smudged like crazy. Not to mention she probably needed a shower. She got out of bed and went to the door, praying that no one would see her on her way back home. On second thought, she went over to the bathroom to de-smudge her makeup from last night before heading out the door.
Natalie made it home relatively quickly, and, to her great pleasure, was no spotted by anyone of consequence. She was nearly to the door when someone else came out of it who was neither Peter or Stephen, nearly landing right on top of her. It was Jim Morrison, and he didn't look at all prepared for the situation.
"Oh!" he said, backing up and nodding his head. "Didn't really expect to see you."
"Same," said Natalie, trying not to look him in the eye. Did he really remember? "What are you still doing here?"
"Just leaving," said Jim. "Don't worry, I was just helping with clean up and stuff."
"That was nice of you," said Natalie. There was a painful silence.
"Were you trying to go inside?" asked Jim.
"Yeah," said Natalie. "Just coming back."
"Are—are you okay?" asked Jim. "I mean, you really bolted last night."
"I'm fine," said Natalie. "I just—I wasn't in the right of mind last night, if you know what I mean."
"I'm sorry if I took advantage of you," Jim blurted out. There was another awkward silence before Natalie finally spoke up.
"No," said Natalie. "You—you didn't, I just had a bad night. Well, not all bad, but…ah bullocks…you know."
"It's cool," said Jim, grinning. Natalie's acceptance seemed to be bringing Jim back into his usual state—thank god for that. "So, I guess I'll get on home kid…hit me up if you ever wanna chill, you seem nice."
"I will, thank you," said Natalie. Hm…maybe sex in Laurel Canyon wasn't a big to-do. "I have to clean up a bit…I'll see ya around."
"Yeah, see ya," said Jim, grinning rather handsomely. It sent Natalie's stomach in knots. Although she wasn't sure she'd want a relationship with Jim, she still couldn't believe she was able to nab someone as good-looking as him. The fact that he was the frontman of The Doors was still dawning on her. Shrugging it off, she opened the door to walk inside. Whatever Stephen and Jim did to the house was amazing, because it looked absolutely spotless. The bar was cleared off and the leftover drinks put away, the trash was out, and there was no sign that any rouge sex was had in any corner of the house.
"Stephen?" Natalie called. There was no answer, so she went to her room, grabbed a towel, and went over to the bathroom for her much-needed shower.
She was glad to finally shed her party clothes and step into the warm water that was streaming from the shower head. She managed to get all of her crazy makeup off, and was massaging shampoo into her tangled hair. It felt amazing; nearly like sex, except a tad less erotic, of course. Still, she couldn't help letting out a moan of pleasure at the feeling of her fingers burying deep into her hair.
Meanwhile:
Stephen walked out of his room and into the living room. Jim had left after a couple hours of straightening the house out, and he still wasn't sure if Natalie had come back yet. He heard from Peter that there was a band practice this morning, so maybe Natalie had gone to that. He decided that he needed to go into the shower to get rid of the party on him once and for all. Not realizing that the shower was already running and that Natalie was on the other side of the door, he opened up and walked in.
Natalie didn't hear the door open because her head was submerged in the running water. What she did realize, however, was Stephen casually going up to the shower, and, stark naked, throwing open the shower curtain.
"Oh my—Stephen!" Natalie shrieked, pulling the shower curtain back over her naked body. "What in the bloody hell?"
"Oh shit!" exclaimed Stephen, pulling a towel over his crotch and turning red.
"Did you see anything?" said Natalie, still not very happy at all.
"No, I promise," said Stephen. He didn't want to tell her he caught a glimpse of soapy boob, but it was hardly anything to have her get all upset over. "You didn't…see me, did you?"
"Oh, I caught an eyeful!" said Natalie, visibly distressed. Of course she had thought about Stephen in a sexual manner before, him walking in on her awkwardly in the shower was not the way she wanted to have a first look at his junk. "Just—just get out, let me finish in here."
"Okay, I'm out," said Stephen, wrapping the towel around his waist. "I—I'm sorry."
"It's all right," said Natalie, closing the shower curtain again. "But you ought to knock."
"Will do," said Stephen, walking out into the living room. Natalie was left to finish her shower in peace. Next time she would be sure to lock the door.
At the studio:
The Monkees had been at it for hours in their rehearsal, and they seemed to be going in circles at this point. Everyone was making the same mistakes, and what was already good wasn't getting any better.
"Guys, I think we need a break here," said Davy. "My voice is getting tired, and I'd have to say the same for Mike's fingers."
"As much as I'd hate to admit my faults, you're right," said Mike. "Let's pack it up."
"Not so fast guys," said a man who had just walked in. He was only a few years older than the four boys, but he was one of the big men in charge. He was Bert Schneider, one of the creators of the Pre-Fab Four.
"Aw man Bert, we need to get outta here," said Peter. He was thinking of Natalie, as well as his own sanity. He needed a break and a good, long, uninterrupted nap.
"Not until I hear D.W. Washburn again," said Bert. "Bob and Ward are trusting me on this one, and when they listen to you guys next week, it'll be on my head if you guys aren't playing your single in tip-top shape."
Micky sighed. "I guess I gotta clench my nuts again then," said Micky, shrugging, referring to his stupidly-high vocal line in the song.
"I'll do it for ya if we don't get this bloody song perfect this time around," said Davy.
"Come on guys, let's stop joking around and get to it," said Mike. "Pete, you going to the piano for this one again?"
"I suppose so," said Peter, putting his bass down and walking over to the piano. He loved playing the piano; it was his first instrument, and he was amazing at it. He loved playing everything else he played, but the piano felt so much more natural to him.
"Okay guys, I don't wanna be the bad guy," said Bert. "Let's just get this over with. Ready Micky?"
"Ready as ever," said Micky. "Ready to get the hell outta here…" Davy shoved him playfully and the group started to play the song. The bouncy tune started to put Peter in a better mood; he really did like playing this song, even if it got crappy airplay. He hoped the song was making Bert happy too—as much as music lit up Peter's world right now, he couldn't wait to get out of that studio, see Stephen and Natalie, crash on the couch, and smoke a joint. He knew it would be a while till he had his next party. The song finished and Micky looked up at Bert hopefully with raised eyebrows.
"Well?" said Micky. "Will you set us free yet?"
"I guess so," said Bert. "Just practice on your own guys. We need to make this kick some ass since your show's not on the air anymore."
"It's good to be first and foremost musicians now," said Mike. "Now, that being said…let's get the hell out of here."
"Here, here," said Davy. He turned to Peter. "Ay, Pete, ya got any plans?"
"I was just heading home," said Peter. "Gotta check on Nat too."
"Right," said Davy. "I guess I'll go home then. Tell her 'hi' for me, I need to hang out with my fellow Brit sometime soon ya know!"
"Of course, I'll see when she wants to," said Peter. He knew Natalie would love to see Davy.
"Alright then, see ya mate," said Davy. Peter waved goodbye and the four of them got into their separate cars. Peter remembered the good old days when the four of them would pile into one car after filming and grabbed a bite to eat or caught a movie together. The times did change.
Meanwhile, at the house:
Natalie came out of the shower, peeking around the door to check for Stephen, although she was safely wrapped in a towel. She knew he would be careful from now on, but she wanted to save the both of them the embarrassment of meeting like that again. She safely got to her room where she changed into a blouse and a pair of jeans. She came out to see Stephen sitting on the couch, fully clothes, flipping through the channels on the tv. Natalie cleared her throat to announce her presence in the room, and Stephen's head snapped up.
"Oh, hey," he said, still flipping through channels. "Listen Natalie, I'm sorry."
"It's okay," said Natalie, taking a seat next to Stephen. "No harm done. Have you heard from Peter?"
"He should be at band practice still," said Stephen. "I honestly didn't know you were coming home."
"I didn't think you were home," said Natalie. "Jim nearly fell on top of me when I got here."
"Oh, again?" said Stephen with a playful glimmer in his eye. Natalie shoved him to one side of the couch gently, blushing. "Sorry, sorry," said Stephen, trying not to crack up.
"Whatever," said Natalie. "I keep forgetting to ask though—have you heard back from Judy yet?"
Stephen felt a put in his stomach. He actually hadn't heard back from Judy, and although he knew the romance between them was gone, he really did want to hear from her. He didn't want their relationship to fall apart completely. All the same, hearing about Judy, especially from Natalie, made Stephen fall apart inside. "No, not yet," said Stephen.
"I'm sure she's just busy," said Natalie, putting a hand on Stephen's shoulder. "I bet she misses you just as much!"
"I'm sure," said Stephen. He really wanted to get off the subject; it made him sick to his stomach. What else was there to talk about? How he walked in on Natalie while she was showering and saw her breasts? Not that it was unpleasant, she had wonderful breasts…and now his mind was wandering.
He must have been starting into space because he heard Natalie calling his name distantly. "Stephen? Stephen!"
"Wha?" said Stephen, snapping back into reality.
"I think I heard someone at the door," said Natalie. "Could be Peter's back."
"Could be," said Stephen, thankful that someone was coming in to break that horrible tension between the girl of his dreams and his stupid self. He got up to answer the door.
On the road:
Of course, it was not Peter at the door. While the mystery guest had knocked on the door of Peter's and Stephen's house, Peter was still driving en route back home. His radio was turned on and playing a Beatles song, and the windows were down, the wind blowing through his cornflower colored hair. Of course, his mind was not on whoever was at the door, it was only on getting back home to be at the door and to come in and relax. Back at the house in Laurel Canyon, however, things were about to get a little less relaxing.
At home:
Stephen just stood in front of the door, not moving. Perhaps no one had knocked; maybe Natalie was a million miles away as well. But Natalie knew what she heard.
"Come on Stephen, don't keep them waiting," she said, wanting very badly to see Peter, if that was indeed who was there. "I'm sure it's very hot outside." The California summer was very unforgiving,
"All right," said Stephen, not knowing why he was so hesitant. Upon opening the door, he knew exactly why, Staring into his shocked face were the two biggest, bluest eyes Stephen or Natalie had ever seen. The face of a very beautiful woman who was maturing and travel-worn, but glowing all the same. Stephen's stomach sank and Natalie's heart pounded and a smile plastered onto her face. "Hey Judy," said Stephen, trying not to let his fear show.
"Hello Stephen," said Judy Collins, smiling at her very troubled, very terrified lover. This day was certainly turning into quite the bumpy ride.