It was agreed that everyone would meet at the store before heading off to the concert as a group. Since it was his first real date in a very long time, Eric was pacing the space in front of the cash register, trying to keep it together while he waited for Amanda to arrive. Valerie sat behind the counter, resting her elbow on the top and resting her chin in her hand.
"Eric, relax," she admonished gently. "She'll be here. You look great- just be sure to tell her she looks great, then we'll all go and enjoy the concert."
He nodded, brushing some hair away from his face, but her advice did very little to quell the butterflies that had taken up residence in his stomach.
Ritch went to the back and returned with a handful of beers; he handed them out, hoping one might help Eric to calm down a little bit. There was no way he would get anywhere with Amanda if he was too busy trying to keep his heart rate in check.
Aaron and Joy were leaning against the front of the counter, watching their young friend with the same curiosity they had when they had first seen him wander down the sidewalk, before he'd nearly been mowed down by that skateboarder.
"It's good to see Chicago hasn't changed you too much," Aaron quipped, noting that Eric had the same delirious look he'd worn on that first afternoon.
Before the young Forman could respond with his own sarcastic quip, the bell over the front door dinged and Amanda appeared, dressed like a proper former-groupie, voluminous hair and all. She looked like a girl Hyde would definitely approve of; she looked like a rock-and-roll muse.
"Hi," she said, to Eric more than anyone else.
"Hey," the four older adults chorused back, and Eric responded with his own nervous "Hi," which made her smile. He kicked himself nevertheless- it was time to turn down the twitchy. "You look…" What was that word Valerie had used? "You look great."
"Thanks," she said. "So do you."
"Everybody ready to go?" Ritch asked, taking Valerie's hand and ushering everyone out of the shop. Under the watchful gaze of the band posters, Ritch flipped a switch, cutting the florescent haze of the store and locking the front door behind them.
It wasn't too far a walk to Soldier Field, the stadium in which Pink Floyd was fixing to perform. The little group of six listed songs they hoped the band would play as they waited in line. Once they made it to their spots, Eric looked around in wonder. He knew the stadium was big, but he was shocked at the sheer number of people in attendance: there must have been close to a hundred thousand fans present.
A rush of adrenaline coursed through the teen when the band appeared on stage. The entire stadium erupted in a roar of cheers and screams, echoing his feelings. The only other large concert Eric had ever been to was Ted Nugent, which had been incredible, but the turnout for a rock concert in the Oshkosh area of Wisconsin was nothing compared to this.
"Hello, Chicago," Roger Waters' voice came over the roar, which was answered by more screaming and cheering. The psychedelic tones of the first song came on, and Eric felt Amanda slip her hand in to his. He looked down at her to find that she was already smiling up at him. His heart puttered a little in response, and he smiled as they turned back to enjoy the concert, waves of the electric guitar washing over them. No drugs were necessary, though most of the audience was most likely on some substance or another. Eric just drank in the music and, for a moment, wondered how life could get any better.
….
When the last bars of the encore song were played and the band left the stage, the crowd began to file out of the stadium. It was still fairly early in the evening, and Eric began to think of where else he could stop with Amanda before taking her back to her apartment. Maybe for coffee somewhere? He didn't actually drink the stuff, but it would be nice to talk for a while- very few words were exchanged during the performance.
The six young adults left the stadium, and Eric turned to his date.
"So, would you, uh, like to get some coffee with me? There's this place not far from my hotel that should still be open-"
"Actually Eric," Amanda cut in as nicely as possible. "I think I'm gonna call it a night."
Not admitting to himself that this hurt his feelings a little, Eric frowned.
"Are you sure? I mean it's not that late…"
"Yeah, I had a really nice time," she said earnestly, "but I've got to get up early in the morning, so…"
"Sure," Eric agreed politely, stifling his disappointment. He wasn't all that great with women, but even Eric Forman knew when he was being let down easy. Ignoring that, he pressed forward.
"Thanks for coming…Could I see you again?" he asked, and the look in her eyes told him no before she even opened her mouth.
"I'm kinda busy all this week," she stalled. Eric's friends watched the exchange discreetly from a few yards away.
"Okay, well, do you need me to take you home?" he offered, trying desperately to conceal his embarrassment.
"No, I'll get a cab," Amanda said, attempting to prevent an awkward walk home with him. It was not that she hadn't liked spending time with Eric, but she realized about halfway through the night that she wasn't all that into him, and that there really was no point in pursuing a relationship that she felt was dead from the beginning.
As she thanked him for the night and left, Aaron came up behind Eric and put his arm around his shoulder in an attempt to comfort his young friend.
"Cheer up, Forman," he encouraged, leading Eric back to where their other friends were standing. The four had figured out what was going on when Amanda had turned to catch a cab, and were waiting with moral support ready.
"It's her loss," Valerie said.
"I'm sorry, Eric," Joy offered, annoyed that her friend had put him down so quickly. "She never was terribly bright."
Eric snorted. He'd thought things were going great with Amanda. Was it him? Did he do something wrong? He hadn't been on a proper date in a while, but surely he wasn't that rusty? Maybe it wasn't just Donna or Amanda he couldn't have... maybe this was indicative of a bigger problem-
"Snap out of it, Eric," Ritch said, seeing the downward spiral of despair evident on his friend's face. "Chicago isn't Point Place. If you don't want to, odds are you'll never see her again."
"And there are other girls," Valerie added.
Joy glanced around and smiled when she saw what she was looking for. A cluster of trucks, buses, and security cars sat at the far end of the stadium, and taking Eric's hand, led the group towards the activity. "I think I know what will make you feel better," she said.
"Drinking?" he deadpanned, and she just tugged on his arm without stopping.
They passed some roadies loading amps into a truck, and when they came to a large security guard who was blocking the door to the backstage area, Joy simply flashed a charming smile.
"Hi, we're with the band," she said.
"Never heard that one before," the guard said, not in the mood. "Get lost."
Unperturbed, she continued. "Is there a Linda Maddox back there?"
"How should I know?"
While this exchange was going down, Eric watched a bunch of attractive young women exit the door with some of the roadies. They leaned up against the wall and pulled out cigarettes, taking a break from whatever wild excitement was going on inside.
One of the taller women looked up in curiosity to see who these fans were. Recognizing Joy's voice, she came forward.
"Joy!"
"Linda!" Joy smiled, pulling her old friend in for a hug. "How are you?"
"I'm great! Wasn't the show just unbelievable? David's not too happy with this setlist, poor thing, but I think it's spectacular."
It took Eric a minute to realize that this 'David' was David Gilmour, one of the members of the band. He had to remind himself not to ask stupid questions like "You know David Gilmour?!" This groupie, or supporter, as Joy preferred, was clearly on familiar terms with the band.
Linda looked around, over Joy's head to where Eric, Aaron, Ritch and Valerie were standing. "So I haven't seen you in a while, who are you touring with right now?"
"Nobody at the moment," Joy said, gesturing to her boyfriend. "You remember Aaron."
"Yes! Good to see you, glad you guys could make the show," Linda said. Noticing Eric, she smiled. "Who's this cutie?"
"This is Eric," Joy said, pulling him forward. The other groupies against the wall were now looking on in curiosity. "Remember Amanda? She came here with him, but she split on us right after the concert."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Linda said in sympathy. "Would you like to come and hang out with us for a while? The band's cooling off and resting for a few minutes, so I don't think you'll get to see them, but everyone else is here."
Joy smiled at Eric with a mischievous look before gesturing for everyone to follow her through the backstage door.
...
Every fantasy he'd had, every article he'd read in Rolling Stone, every story Joy and Aaron told him about life in the music business….none of that could possibly have prepared Eric for the world he stumbled upon when he crossed the threshold into that backstage party. It was like falling down the rabbit hole and winding up in a psychedelic, music-fueled wonderland. Approximately a dozen female groupies scattered around an extra dressing room, with food, alcohol and pills lying everywhere in between. The girls were dressed (to various extents) in fur, glitter, sequence, and leather. The hazy room was lit up with dim electric lights, and some album that Eric didn't recognize was blaring from a record player in the corner. While the actual members of Pink Floyd weren't present, the members of the opening act were hanging out (and making out) with the groupies.
The partiers regarded the newcomers with interest, and some even recognized Joy. As it turned out, Joy was rather famous in the rock-and-roll community, at least as far as the groupies were concerned. Few girls as young as Joy had known as many rockstars or seen as many historic concerts. There were even rumors that one or two recent songs were inspired by her. And to top all of that, the fact that she had settled down in a real relationship with a member of a band gave all the other groupies hope that such a thing might happen for them.
So, suffice it to say, Joy was a living legend among these partiers, who either came up to greet their old friend, or to meet her for the first time. She took this all in stride, hugging all of her old friends, and greeting each new acquaintance with her calm, humble demeanor. She looked so comfortable in this overwhelming environment; she was in her element.
Ritch and Valerie sort of drifted to the edges of the excitement, happy to observe and to strike up a conversation with a roadie about the concert. While Aaron stayed close by his girlfriend, Eric moved to follow his married friends to the outside of the main fray. That is, until a young woman approached him.
"Hi, I'm Chelsea," the girl said without preamble.
"I'm Eric," the teen said, looking down at her but taking a step back. This girl was much shorter than he was, but she had such a commanding presence that she took energy from the room- to be too close to her was almost draining. She was pretty in the same way that Jackie was pretty, but this Chelsea girl seemed sharper and far more worldly. As a groupie, she'd seen and done some crazy things- the crazy showed in her eyes.
Eric was fascinated.
"So you're here with Joy?" she asked, taking a step forward, closing the space between them.
"Oh, yeah, Joy and Aaron…" he looked around for Valerie and Ritch, and nodded in their direction. "And our friends Valerie and Ritch Thompson. They own a record store a few blocks away."
"Far out. And what about you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are you from here? Are you in Aaron's band or something?"
"No, I'm just a friend…visiting from Wisconsin." Eric had stopped telling people he was from Point Place, because they tended to either look at him in confusion (not knowing where on earth Point Place was) or in disdain (who wants to talk to some kid from Point Place, Wisconsin?)
"Wisconsin, that's cool. I'm from New York."
He perked up in interest. "New York? As in New York City? That's awesome. I've never been."
Finding the transition she was looking for, Chelsea smiled. "Maybe we could go somewhere quieter and I'll tell you all about it?"
Such a blatant offer had never been given to the teen in his life.
Taking his pause for a yes, she smiled again and took his hand. "There are a bunch of back rooms that nobody's using."
Eric grinned like an idiot, following her without a thought.
Because they were in a football stadium, there was a very limited number of comfortable rooms in the vicinity; anything close to comfort was surely being occupied by the members of the band. Nevertheless, the pair of young rockers found themselves a quiet nook: an empty changing room with little more than some cubbies for personal belongings, a pair of benches, and a couch.
"So," Eric said, sitting down on a bench. They were the long and thin type commonly found in athletic locker rooms, which enabled Chelsea to sit next to him and still straddle the seat. She leaned towards him ever so slightly, and he gulped.
"So," he began again. "What's New York like?"
"Oh, it's a blast," she said, leaning back. "The people, the buildings…oh, and the music's really happening there. Really different from Chicago, though. How're you liking it here?"
"I love it," he said. "And I'd love to see New York some time, too."
"Well," Chelsea said, her eyes shifting down to his lips and back to his eyes again. "Maybe you can come visit me there one day."
He started to say "I'd like that," but was cut off by the force of her lips on his.
Eric's entire body shuddered as though he'd been shocked. It did feel like electricity was running through his veins. Besides that surreal kiss he'd shared with a tearful Donna the night he left Point Place, Eric hadn't been kissed in well over a year. And while this kiss didn't hold all of the passion, romance, and love that he'd shared with Donna, this kiss did denote arousal and attraction, which was more than enough.
Chelsea smiled into their kiss when he shuddered, and leaned back once more. Eric opened his eyes (which he hadn't realized were closed) once she pulled away from him. Reaching in to her pocket, Chelsea produced a small baggie of pills, one of which she took, and one she offered to Eric.
He took it from her, again without thinking, assuming that these were the same type of pills that he'd tried twice before- as Aaron had said, modified prescription, nothing more. This tablet certainly looked the same. It certainly wasn't.
...
A few minutes later, Aaron caught up with Valerie and Ritch, who were still engrossed in their conversation with the roadie.
"Hey, you seen Eric anywhere? There are some great chicks here that he might like."
"He went off with some girl," Ritch smirked.
"Good," Aaron grinned. "Glad to see he's not taking the whole thing with Amanda too hard."
"We just gotta make sure he gets back in one piece," Ritch said. "That girl looked really into him."
"He deserves it."
...
After several minutes of making out, things were getting steamier. However, in the back of his mind, Eric was confused as to why the pill Chelsea gave him wasn't kicking in. Usually he had problems with them being too strong, not too weak! But after a while of this fooling around, Chelsea pulled away and took his hand, leading him from the benches, onto the couch. The young Forman followed readily, but as he stood, a marvelous head rush hit him with all the force of a punch. His vision pulsed and sounds blurred.
A bizarre feeling of happiness rushed over him, and Eric felt Chelsea fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He moved to help her in an attempt to speed up the process, but his shirt somehow felt different. He couldn't quite place the feeling…
He blinked at the lights in the ceiling and shook his head. But the girl in his arms kissed him again, distracting him. Eric kissed her back, and they fell backwards onto the couch.
And so began the most amazing, frightening, and bizarre two hours of Eric Forman's life.
