A/N: I had this chapter ready to go on my computer, so I wanted to post it today. For those of you watching Extreme Rules this evening, I hope you enjoy! On a side note, I really loved this chapter and had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you have tons of fun reading it! :D
"Do I look like a slut?"
Shifting the focus from his reflection in the bathroom mirror, Chris eyed his wife. "Totally."
"Yes!"
She pumped her fist and fluffed her hair, sending Chris into a spell of hearty laughter. She had spent the better part of the afternoon looking into the same bathroom mirror as him, wrapping the tendrils of her hair around the barrel of a closed curling iron, which created a nice, wavy effect. Her cleavage nearly bulged right out of her midnight black halter top, which formed a v-neck shape at the hitch of her bosom. Her workouts with Dan had paid off, since her stomach was flat enough that nobody would have guessed she had given birth only three months prior, if not for the fact that the happy news had circulated online.
Getting away on a Monday night — or any weekday, for that matter — was a rarity. Work came first, or so Vince had pounded into their heads, but he made an exception since Chris had purchased the concert tickets months in advance. He had promised Stephanie they would go to a concert together, and when the time arrived, they had left Ted and Amy in their home with the kids so they could venture out into the nightlife. Even secluded from the masses, inside a hotel suite of their own, there was an odd sense of responsibility, like no matter how far they traveled from the kids, they were still parents who needed to set a proper example.
Working an extra dab of pomade through his hair, Chris checked out Stephanie, who was smoothing her jean skirt down. Her feet were outfitted in a pair of rounded boots that matched the color of her top, with a chunky heel to balance on. She liked those better than stilettos, since they were much easier to walk in. Chris had gone with the casual-yet-dangerous look: graphic band tee, blue jeans, sneakers, and black leather jacket. His hair was spiked to the max, but he had concluded the styling process, whereas Stephanie was still messing with her locks, deciding whether to leave them down or pull them up.
"Do you like my hair up or down?" Stephanie asked. When in doubt, she could entrust Chris with giving a truthful response. For added assistance, she modeled her hair first down, then used her hand to hold it up. She turned her head from left to right, eyes bright as she awaited his answer. "I can't figure out which looks better."
"I like it down, honestly. When you pull your hair back in a ponytail, you look super innocent, but whenever it's down, I'm like, 'Yeah, that's my naughty girl.' Loose hair gives a better vibe," Chris explained. He reached across the counter for his cologne, giving her butt an unexpected smack before straightening back up.
"Hey!" she scowled, folding her arms across her chest. "So, basically, you want the other men at this concert to leer at me?"
"That would be ideal, yeah. I want them to look at you and think, like, wow, that's the type of woman who offers favors at $25 a pop in the restroom stall."
Her mouth dropped clear open. "Christopher Keith Irvine!"
"What?" he shrugged, puckering his lips to maintain an angelic expression. He wasn't fooling anyone. He dropped the act and sprayed the musky fragrance near his neckline, placing it back down on the counter and sidling up to his wife. "Just kidding, baby. You look beautiful, and I'm the luckiest man in the world to have you on my arm tonight. We talked about coming to a concert together years ago, but now it's finally happening, and I want you to know the significance of this night isn't lost on me. It means a lot that we can get away from home for a while, without the kids, and still have this much fun. You're my best friend, and there's no one else I'd rather be here with."
"Okay, come here, that deserves a kiss," Stephanie determined, patting her lips with the tip of her index finger. Chris met the challenge, kissing the breath out of her, and even playfully lifting her from the floor while their lips were still connected. He placed her back down and used his thumb to caress her cheek. "Listen, do you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Chris frowned.
"Exactly," she smirked. "Complete silence. Don't get me wrong, because I love our babies to death, but it's so nice to get alone time. You and I never went through a period where it was just the two of us, with no kids. We've had Graham since the beginning, and, I don't know, I guess it's nice to see what it's like to get you all to myself."
"It is for me, too," Chris agreed, swishing his finger over her cheek. "We should head out. I know it's still early, but I figure we can stop and eat somewhere near the arena, then we can get to the show before most other people and try to sneak backstage."
"No way, I couldn't do that. Do you have any idea how embarrassing it would be if my fans got wind of the fact that I snuck into a band's dressing room?" she pointed out. "I'd be annihilated by everyone."
"No, you wouldn't. They'd think you were a badass, but we don't have to try, if you don't want to. Whatever my Stephy says, goes."
Her nose crinkled and she laughed. "It doesn't work when you call me Stephy. It just sounds weird, maybe because I associate that nickname with Graham."
"Well, he can share with me and you can be my Stephy, too," Chris decided. He grabbed onto her hand and brought it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to her satin skin and looking around the room. "We're not forgetting anything, are we? Because I really don't want to come back here once we leave. We need to get to that show early and, oh, also, I forgot to tell you, but Testament is playing, too, so it'll be a full night of maximum rock. I'm pumped!"
"Me too, and to answer you from before, I don't think we're forgetting anything. It only feels that way because we're so used to having at least one kid with us, and for once, we don't."
"I guess you're right. Let's do this, baby."
"Ready when you are."
Graham swung his feet at the dining room table, leaning forward and accepting affectionate licks from Freddy. On the table, a half-filled glass of milk was awaiting him, along with a plate of fresh cookies, but he didn't have much of an appetite. His mommy and daddy had gone to a concert without him, and although they explained that they would have to get away on their own sometimes, he still missed them. Graham also felt left out, because he loved rock music, courtesy of his daddy, and he would have wanted to attend the concert, too. His parents weren't the only ones interested in a good time.
His gramps and Amy tried to soften the blow by telling him what he already knew: alone time was normal for adults. That didn't make him any less sad, so he sought comfort in his pets, Brownie nipping at his feet, jealous he was paying all his special attention to Freddy. Ted walked around with Fiona tucked in his right arm, making sure the alarm was engaged and the house locked up, since they had lost most of the daylight, in nearing 7 PM. Three hours separated them from Long Beach, where Chris and Stephanie were still enjoying their afternoon.
They had promised to call home before the concert began so they could wish Graham a goodnight, but that would only make him more melancholy. It would suffice as yet another reminder that they were there, and he, stuck at home. He sighed and dropped his chin in his hand, Freddy tickling his skin as he sniffed at him. He willed himself not to cry, but he couldn't help tearing up a little bit. He could handle not being with his parents at all times, but he couldn't accept exclusion from an activity he would have loved to be a part of.
"Hey, buddy, how you doin'?" Ted asked, patting his shoulder as he rounded the table, taking a seat across from his grandson. Graham stared a hole clear through the table, having nothing to add to the discussion. "Graham?"
"Yeah?" he spoke up, albeit timidly.
"You know Mom and Dad wouldn't want you sitting around sad. They want you to have fun and be happy, and please don't forget that they promised to bring you to the next concert they go to," Ted reminded. "Tonight's concert was just a long time in the making, and it was a special thing Dad promised to take Mom to, so they went. They're not doing this to hurt you."
"I know, but it's not fair."
"Sometimes life isn't fair."
"Why not?"
"Well, that's just the way it is. Life works in mysterious ways," Ted replied. "I know for a fact that if they were here, they wouldn't want to see you like this. They wouldn't want you sitting at this table, sad and all alone. They would want you to be up and having fun, and...hey! I just had an idea. You know what we could do?"
"What?" Graham asked, sitting up a little straighter in his chair. He sensed a good idea even before it was proposed to him.
"If we can't be at the concert tonight, what other option is there?" Ted asked. Graham shrugged, but Ted smiled, because he knew what he had in store would become an instant win. "We bring the concert to us. We can make our own rock concert."
"We can do that?" Graham wondered, aghast at the notion. "But, how?"
"You'd be surprised. Wait until I put Fiona to bed," Ted said, a twinkle in his eye. "There's lots of fun to be had right here at home."
After an early dinner at a steak and wine bistro, which Stephanie had chosen by latching onto Chris's hand and tugging him to the entrance, they found themselves at the arena, handing their tickets over. The attendant ripped off the stubs and handed the remains back, wishing them a good time, and they wouldn't settle for anything less. Worried they might be separated by the crowd, Chris grabbed Stephanie's hand the second they stepped into the dimmed arena, holding so tightly onto her that his knuckles turned white. They were bumped and jostled as they passed by clusters of rowdy fans, and Chris was a little disappointed so many people had acted on the same idea of arriving ahead of time.
Apparently, he wasn't so original after all. After dodging misplaced elbows and swerving to miss oblivious band groupies, they made it to the front row. Stephanie studied the tickets and matched up the number and letter of their seats, pointing out two chairs to Chris. The air was electric, the arena already abuzz with a mishmash of voices, and the general atmosphere brought back a sea of repressed memories Stephanie had unwittingly held onto. She recalled high school and showing up at a concert with her friends, conjuring sad images of how dead the crowd had been that night.
Folding her chair down, Stephanie took a seat, while Chris dropped into the one beside her. She handed him the tickets, and he stood up briefly to slip them into his back pocket, so they could keep them as a souvenir. When he sat back down, she linked her left arm with his right and leaned in close to his ear. "I was thinking about how I went to this one concert in high school and the crowd was completely dead."
"Oh, I hate that," Chris responded, shaking his head in disgust.
"Me too. When the crowd isn't into anything, it completely kills the band's vibe."
"Plus, it's like, why even bother coming to a show if you're just gonna sit there and do nothing. May as well stay home, right?"
"Exactly!" Stephanie exclaimed. "We are so on the same page right now," she said, using her index and middle fingers to signal back and forth between their eyes. "We're right here, sweetie. Right here."
"We always are," he grinned. His smile faltered a bit. "Maybe not always, but most of the time."
"Hey, we're still two different people with different thought processes, so there are bound to be disagreements, but that's normal." Stale cigarette smoke hung in the air, almost stifling, but Stephanie pushed it out of her mind and glanced around, noticing that the sections were filling at a rapid pace. She pulled her cell phone out, and her mouth dropped open when she checked the time. "We're not as early as we thought we were. We must have spent more time in that restaurant than we meant to."
"That's okay. We're here now, so that's all that matters." Chris leaned over and kissed her soundly on the mouth. "Thanks again for coming with me."
"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," she grinned. "Love you."
"Love you, too."
Rock 'n roll, as it turned out, was alive and well beyond the confinement of Graham's sliding closet doors. The odds and ends scattered across his closet floor could have come to life and formed their own concert whenever he wasn't looking. Among a set of toy microphones equipped with stands were fingerless gloves, wigs, feather boas, and even frosted sunglasses. The eyewear may not have been classically rock 'n roll, but it was enough of a prop to satisfy Graham. He even managed to find an old pair of jeans with holes in them, which he slipped on, along with an old t-shirt that Ted cut the sleeves off of. If he was playing the role of a rock star, he may as well go big.
While Amy was upstairs with Fiona, sitting in the rocking chair as she rubbed the baby's back, Ted brought Graham into the designated yoga room. The space was devoid of all furniture, only littered with yoga mats and yoga blocks across the floor, and Ted helped move them aside so Graham would have room to go wild and free. Out of touch as he was, Ted at least knew how to work the camera on his cell phone, thanks to Chris, so he engaged the video recorder in preparation to capture pure hilarity. Graham was all decked out, with a wicked smirk spreading across his face. He looked, well, like his father.
"Ready, Graham?"
"Yeah!" he shouted, clapping for himself like he were already a celebrity.
Ted laughed and held up a halting finger, walking over to the mounted television in the far corner of the room. With Graham's help, he stumbled across the channels with blank screens, those which did nothing except play music on a cycle, and they found a proper station. Having caught a Quiet Riot song almost midway through — Cum on Feel the Noize —Graham jumped right into the jam, lip-synching to the song. He faked it a little, since he didn't know all the words, nor did he need to.
Ted captured every last bit of Graham's "concert", knowing Chris and Stephanie would love seeing how their son's time had been spent while they were gone. He'd had time to rock out and finish his homework, all in a single evening. As Graham played to the invisible crowd before him, Fiona's head nodded off to the side in her crib as she was engulfed by pleasant dreams. Amy smiled at Fiona and rubbed her cheek, giving her crib mobile a spin as a soft tune floated through the room. Turning on a nursery lamp on the dresser, Amy spun around to leave, taking the baby monitor with her.
Spending the night with Fiona was the best experience she'd had in a long while. Happening across Ted and Graham going wild in the yoga room, a few minutes later, was by far the second best. Definitely.
When Born of Fire hit, all hell broke loose. Sweat beads rolled down the foreheads of men, the sparse women in the crowd banged their heads, and had the chairs been portable, they would have been tossed every which way. Each time Stephanie felt out of place due to the unadulterated lack of fellow females in the audience, her concerns fell away when Chris clamped his hand around hers and squeezed. He pumped his fists to the beat and thrashed his head, and Stephanie fell back into her groove and joined him. A few raging mosh pits broke out, and that was enough for her to let go completely.
Her husband was kind enough to bring her out to rock the night away, and damn it if she wasn't going to eat the chance up like cake. Her boots limited her movement, but she did the best she could, closing her eyes and banging her head in every direction. Soon, she felt her own sweat cascading down her face, heart thumping and hair flying as she spiraled away, forgetting all the things that brought her stress or unhappiness. She was free under the neon lights, almost like she were flying, and it wasn't until she realized Chris was still holding her hand as he rocked alongside her that she saw a comforting truth.
Their souls were connected, forever entwined. And she loved him so much. So damn much.
"That's how it's done, kid!" Ted encouraged. He ended the video and placed his phone down, clapping his hands at Graham's performance, as he took a final bow. With the curtain call complete, Ted rounded Graham up, pulling him into a loose hug. "I'm glad you had fun, but we've got to get you in the bath and get to bed. I didn't think you'd go for that long. How much time was that, Ames?"
"Oh, jeez," she paused to check her wristwatch, "I think it was about 15 minutes. You looked good up there, Graham. You must have inherited all that charisma from your daddy."
"I did. I'm like Daddy in a bunch of ways," he said, a silly grin gracing his face. "That's what everyone always tells me, anyway."
"It's a compliment of the highest order. Your daddy's an amazing man," Amy replied. She ventured further into the room, placing her hand on the back of Graham's head. "Come on, sweetheart. Let's go run you a bath so we can get you tucked into bed at a reasonable time. You've still got school tomorrow."
"But Mommy said I don't have to go," Graham shrugged, putting on his best innocent face. Amy pursed her lips and tipped her head to the side.
"Really?" she said. "I was standing right next to you guys when she walked out the front door, and I seem to remember her saying you can't afford to miss school right now. It's the beginning of the school year, and she wants you to make a good impression."
"I know. I just wanted to say that and see if you'd let me stay home."
"I thought you like school," Ted butted in.
"I do," Graham explained. "My new school is fun, and I already made a bunch of friends there, but I still like not having to get up, 'cause I'm always still tired when Mommy comes in my room and wakes me up. She laughs at me, 'cause she says I'm not a morning person, or something, but I just get real tired."
"I'll bet. That's why we need to get you in that bath, pronto," Amy repeated.
"I don't take baths anymore. I take showers now, 'cause I asked Mommy about it, and she said if it was more comfortable for me, I could do that."
"All right, let's go," Ted said, placing a warm hand on Graham's shoulder. "We can show the video to Mom and Dad when they get back tomorrow afternoon so they can see all the fun you had while they were away. Sound like a deal?"
"Yeah!" Graham said, slapping his gramps a high-five. "I'm gonna get Mom and Dad to do this with me next time, 'cause it'll be fun if it's all of us, and we can have Fifi do it too, when she gets old enough."
"I see no reason why not," Ted answered. He led Graham out of the room, with Amy bringing up the rear. With that, they bid their pre-bedtime bash farewell.
The stuffy Long Beach Arena, heavy with scents of dark ale and stagnant sweat, was smothering, to say the least. When Chris walked out that night with his wife in tow, he appreciated his first deep breath of the clammy California air more than ever. While the weather wasn't cool, per se, it was welcome to the alternative of suffocating inside the arena. Either way, he'd had the night of his life, and as he and Stephanie strolled back to the curb where their chauffeured car would be waiting, his mind was already plotting the next time they would hang out, sans kids. After the night they had together, he was convinced every married couple deserved an outing like that.
Concertgoers streamed out of the arena doors, having entered the building as fans and exited as live wires, sparking across the pavement. The clicking of Stephanie's boots drummed in his mind, and he slipped his arm around her waist, kissing her cheek. "That kicked some serious ass. Wasn't it awesome?"
"I loved it," she said, eyes lit by the night stars. "It was so much more fun than I would have guessed. We really need to get out together more often."
"I know, man, we do. This ruled," Chris said. Since Stephanie was directionally challenged, even by her own admission, Chris took the lead and guided her back to the spot where they had been dropped off hours before. The car hadn't yet arrived, so Chris leaned on a tree for support, pulling Stephanie flush against him. They shared a passion-filled kiss, pulling apart eventually. "Graham's definitely gonna want to hear all about this. We've gotta take him somewhere fun to make up for leaving him behind this time, but sometimes we're gonna need nights like this. I have to get my wife to myself every once in a while, right?"
"You sure do, and I have to get you, too, handsome," Stephanie flirted. She grabbed onto the lapels of his leather jacket and brought him in for another kiss. "I'm so happy. You promised me all that time ago that we'd go to a concert together, and we finally made it happen. Thank you for keeping your promise."
"No worries, honey. You keep all your promises to me, so it was the least I could do. Here, I gotta get this jacket off before I have a massive heatstroke," Chris joked. Once Stephanie took a step back to allow him space, Chris peeled the jacket off his body, tossing it over his right shoulder. "Where the hell is our car? I wanted to take you out to eat again before we headed back to our hotel room and I made a real woman out of you."
Stephanie slid her hand over her chest, and her mouth fell open as she feigned disgust. "Excuse me? I'm not some pathetic groupie, y'know. If you want to get in my pants...or, my skirt, then you'll have to work harder than that lame pick up line. What did it take you, like two seconds to come up with that? Get real," she scoffed.
"Okay, lemme try a different line. Did you wash your clothes with Windex, 'cause I can see myself in your pants."
"Horrible," she laughed. "And to top it off, I'm not even wearing pants."
"That's beside the point," he waved off. "Next line: Do you work at Subway, 'cause you just gave me a footlong."
"Even more horrible."
"Did you eat Lucky Charms for breakfast, 'cause you look magically delicious."
"Atrocious," she grimaced, pointing at their ride as it pulled up. "In the car."
"Whoa, bossy," Chris challenged. "I like bossy women. Sounds like the beginning of a great bedroom roleplay."
"Chris?"
"Yeah?"
"Shut up and get in the car."
"Whatever you say, dear."
