This is from the prompt "Don't You Ever Do That Again". It is not a continuation of the last chapter but a different story all together. I just wanted all the prompts in one series.

Thanks so much for reading. Leave a comment.

Eddie and Curroded Coffin have made it big and Chrissy is being interviewed about their life together.


"We are here tonight with Chrissy Cunningham-Munson, lead woman to Eddie Munson, frontman to the outrageously popular heavy metal band Corroded Coffin." The straight-laced woman with a blunt bob of dark hair and a business suit said into the camera. Chrissy could hear the clicking of the camera as it zoomed in on her. The lights they'd set up around the room were hot and bright and she tried her hardest not to squint. Tried her best to appear relaxed. To definitely not sweat!

She was in her home, after all, and she is comfortable here. She and Eddie bought this house a little over a year ago, just as the band was really starting to take off. It's perfect. Located between Hawkins and Chicago. Far enough away but close enough to where they grew up and close enough to the hustle and bustle of the city, as well as the airport where Eddie flies in and out of often. A two-story, four bedroom restored farmhouse on ten acres with, most importantly, a gate. They tried desperately to maintain a little privacy - people still found them.

The TV station promised anonymity and it was written in the contract that their address as well as the town they lived in would remain private. She and Eddie, as well as their manager, had full disclosure of the end product of the show. If they saw something they didn't like the station would nix it from the final program that was to air next month.

The house itself was a mix of the farmhouse it was back in the day with the original wide planked oak floors and exposed beams in the upstairs bedrooms. It also had a touch of warm industrial with marble countertops and exposed brick in the kitchen.

Chrissy hoped providing an interview would abate some of the curiosity. The fans, as well as those who were just generally curious, could see how they lived. See that, while a huge step up from their first studio apartment, the farmhouse was not very lavish or fancy. Certainly not a mansion. Maybe they'd see that they were regular people. Eddie just happened to have an extraordinary job.

"So, Chrissy," Donna Mackenzi began. The top female broadcast journalist was intimidating. Her show, Entertainment World, broadcasted nationwide every Friday night. She reported on everything from the farm crisis that hit the states earlier in the decade to interviewing the current sitting president. And apparently, the wife of the frontman of the number-one rock band in America as well.

All that being said, Chrissy doubted she was a fan of Corroded Coffin. Which is fine, their type of music wasn't for everyone - loud and fast with questionable lyrics about drugs, sex, and debauchery were often considered controversial. The band is currently under the scrutiny of Tipper Gore. She wants to stick a parental advisory warning label on their album covers. (As well as anyone else's album they deemed inappropriate.)

While Chrissy hoped the interview would ease some curiosity, the band and management were hopeful the interview would show Tipper and the rest of her cronies they were normal people, not Satanists hellbent on converting little Junior to the dark side.

Sometimes it was like free speech doesn't exist.

"What's it like being married to the Sexiest Man of Rock-n-Roll?" Donna asked, settling down into the couch cushion like they were besties catching up.

The title Sexiest Man of Rock-n-Roll was given to him by none other than Roling Stone Magazine. Eddie didn't take the title as a compliment. Chrissy would not divulge to Donna how he felt it diminished his music. He worked hard to write and to play and to produce good, (no, not just good) he worked hard to produce great music. He and the band's music is who he is to the core and to have it skipped over for his looks was a slap in the face.

They wanted only Eddie for the cover of the issue the article ran in, but he refused. They were a group, not a one-man band. He told them it was all or none. Luckily, in the end, Rolling Stone agreed and the whole band was featured.

Eddie, nor Chrissy, would ever tell anyone how he really felt about the title. He didn't want to appear ungrateful for the platform he'd been given even if Rolling Stone wanted to focus more on what he looked like in leather pants than the music he made or the lyrics he wrote.

Chrissy appreciated both the lyrics as well as the leather pants.

Before she answered, she forced a deep breath into her constricted lungs. She hated when her voice shook, which it often did in these situations. This, by far, was the biggest interview she'd ever done. Usually, it was Eddie that everyone wanted to talk to and she was fine with that. Who would have thought little Chrissy Cunningham would be interviewed by Donna Mackenzi?

"Oh, it's everything you can imagine," she answered Donna's question evasively.

"Can you expand on that?" She pressed politely, a smile painted on with red lipstick.

"It's a real achievement," Chrissy began. Inside she groaned. An achievement? What the hell, Chrissy, get it together, she flogged herself.

"An achievement, to be crowned Sexiest Man of Rock-n-Roll?" Donna asked skeptically. Better than the Queen of Hawkins High, she supposed.

Oh no, I'm messing this up. Why did I agree to this? "Well, the music is his greatest achievement. And the fans. He wouldn't be where he is without them. And I have to say Curroded Coffin has some of the best fans in the industry."

"It would appear so. Every single show in the last year has sold out."

Chrissy waited for a question. Isn't that how this worked? Donna asks a question and Chrissy answers it. Apparently not. "It's very exciting to see the band's hard work paying off."

"So, tell us. What's Eddie like at home? What is your life together like?"

"Well," Chrissy searched for the right answer. She wanted to be truthful yet not overexplain. "When he's home, married life is like it is for anyone, I suppose. Having the atmosphere of family and the gloriously mundane stuff."

"Such as?"

"Like, 'What do you want for dinner?' Or 'It's your turn to take the dog out.'" Chrissy leaned forward to scratch between the ears of Beast, their German Shepherd that was curled up at her feet. Beast was almost as famous as Eddie, having been on the cover of their latest album, Heavy Metal Dogz, donning a spiked collar and snarled teeth. "Just normal stuff."

"It must be hard with Eddie being on the road so much. It's been almost constant. Sixty venues last year."

"Was it sixty?" Chrissy asked. "It's been such a blur. A good blur, but still… hard to keep track of."

Chrissy took another breath. She knew this was coming, Eddie had warned her. This is what everyone wanted - to know what their personal life was like. "Well, it's not easy. I miss him when he's out on the road but then I can go see him and I get excited. It's very romantic."

"I'll bet it is. It was during the last tour, you were married, correct?"

Chrissy tried to control the smile that spread across her face. She couldn't help it. It was the happiest day of her life. "Yes. Corroded Coffin was in Vegas. It was a big show, an important one. Their first one as the headliner. Kind of a test run to see if they had the selling power to do their own tour." She stalled, feeling like she was rambling. "I was there for the concert. And well, I guess, when in Rome…"

"Oh come on now," Donna clucked, leaning over and patting Chrissy on the knee. "Give us a little bit more detail than that. You'd been dating for a while? Had you talked about getting married?"

"Yes," Chrissy didn't know how much to share, how much of their personal story to give away. The memories of their wedding, no matter how impromptu it was, were precious to her. And private. Because it was so last minute, the press wasn't expecting it and they managed to keep any photos, mostly polaroids taken by Gareth, out of the papers. "We'd been together for a few years at that point and of course, the discussion of marriage came up once or twice."

"Once or twice?" Donna asked with a Cheshire Cat grin on her face.

"Eddie is very forthcoming. Those in his immediate life know how he feels about them. So yes, we were open in our discussions about the future."

"So, you were in Vegas for a show," she encouraged Chrissy to continue.

Chrissy felt her shoulders relax thinking about that day though it was anything but calming. "It was quite chaotic. It had been over a month since I'd seen Eddie. Everything that could go wrong on the flight went wrong. It was late boarding so I was late landing. The turbulence was horrible. There was a thunderstorm we had to bypass. I was still a new flier, and honestly, I was scared."

"Oh no," Donna sympathized.

"I much prefer the bus," Chrissy said with a laugh. "They lost my luggage. I had the cutest dress picked out. It and all my makeup and my curling irony were lost. I had to wear my jeans and Smith's T-shirt to the concert. By the time I got to the hotel my head was pounding and I was a bundle of nerves. I kind of fell apart when I finally got to see Eddie. I just wanted a shower and a nap. He wanted to play tourist."

"Eddie seems to be high energy."

"He really is. It's like he's never tired. Always busy, playing or writing, or just jumping off the walls. He told me to take a quick nap and when I woke up we'd go shopping so I'd have something nice to wear, then come back to the hotel to get ready for the show. Next thing I knew it was dark outside. I'd slept for six hours."

Donna laughed like it was the funniest thing. "No!"

Chrissy nodded and continued. "Eddie was lying next to me. He'd fallen asleep too. I panicked. It was an hour before we were due at the stadium. I wasn't ready. I hadn't showered. I felt like I was going to ruin everything. I shot up and yelled at him to get up… that we were going to be late. Do you know what he did? He shrugged and lit a cigarette. 'We got plenty of time,' he said."

Now she could laugh at the memory, at the time she wanted to wring his neck. Donna seemed to understand Chrissy's frustration and gasped. "He didn't?"

Chrissy laughed. "That's Eddie though. It takes a lot to ruffle his feathers."

"I bet it does. He performs in front of hundreds of people at every show. That Vegas show was a huge success," Donna commented.

"It was." It launched their headlining tour and a four-record deal with Persona, the top company in the industry. "Even though it started off a little chaotic, it was like a dream. That whole night."

"And something else happened that night too."

Bashfully Chrissy looked away, feeling her cheeks warm, "During the song Tender Metal, Eddie…"

"You are far too modest." Donna interrupted. "Tender Metal isn't just any song. It was written by Eddie, especially for you. And it spent almost a full year as number one on the charts."

It wasn't a secret. Eddie told one L.A. radio station disc jockey he'd written it for her and it spread like wildfire. Still, she blushed.

"Some say that song in particular is the catalyst for their success. Some say it was the reason they got their record deal with Persona."

"Well, I don't know about that. But it's a song close to my heart." For their first wedding anniversary, Eddie had the lyrics printed out and framed. It resided on the wall above their bed. And that she would not share with Donna Mackenzi.

"What else happened that night, particularly after that song?"

"I was to the side, watching the show and Eddie pulled me onto the stage."

"Why? What did he say?" Donna asked.

"Oh, I don't remember exactly what he said," Chrissy lied. She remembered it as clearly as though it happened yesterday.

Donna placed a pair of dignified bifocals on the tip of her nose and picked up the stapled bundle of notes next to her. "After introducing you, he said, and I quote…"

Chrissy recollected as Donna read. They were mid-set and Eddie was drenched with sweat and out of breath. His black tank top showed his sinewy arms, tatted up, his favorite being Chrissy's name on his inner right wrist. His black jeans with holes in the knees, rode low in his hips. He took one earbud from his ear and it dangled over his shoulder. He looked the part. When he performed he put his full body into it and was clearly on a drug-free adrenaline-induced high. He was a real rock-n-roller now, living his dream and taking her along with him.

As he dragged her along, she tried to tell him no and planted her feet solidly on the floor. But he was insistent and she was curious why he wanted her on stage so badly. She allowed herself to be pulled out front and center. It was dark over the audience and she could only make out a few groups of people. They could be heard, though. Their cheering grew when she appeared on stage.

"Eddie! What are you doing," she yelled, doubting he heard her over the crowd.

He smiled broadly at her and spoke into the mic on the stand. "I hope you all don't mind. I just wanted to introduce you to my girl, my muse. Chrissy, this is everyone!" He motioned toward the crowd. She laughed, her hands cupping her burning cheeks. "She's the one I wrote Tender Metal for." In response, deafening cheers echoed around them.

Her eyes went to the jumbo screens on the side of the stage as the camera panned the fans and then landed on her and Eddie. She quickly looked away. No one needs to see their face that large and close up.

"We were kids when we met, but someone doesn't remember it," he teased. "But then senior year we reconnected. Chrissy saw something in me when no one else did. And I know for damn sure I wouldn't be here, standing in this stadium, creating music for all of you with my best friends," he motioned to the guys. They were all grinning as if they were in on this plan to drag her on stage.

"If it wasn't for her." He turned his attention back to Chrissy. Taking her hands in his, he faced her. "Chrissy, baby, you're my life. My love. My reason for being. You are the best person I know. I could go on and on but…" He dug into his pocket and pulled out a ring - just the ring, no box (such an Eddie thing to do) and presented it to her. "Chrissy, will you be my wife?"

Chrissy swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat that the memory brought up. She hadn't been expecting the proposal at all. Maybe sometime in the future, yes. But not that night. The night of their big show. "It was a total shock," she told Donna.

"And, well, obviously you said yes!" Donna replied, gesturing to the ring on her finger. It was small by some standards, only a one-carrot black diamond. It was what he could afford at that time and Chrissy wasn't about to trade it in for a bigger one now that their financial circumstances have changed. It was the one he chose for her. It was and still is perfect.

"I said yes," she nodded. "And quickly ran back to my hiding spot. After the show, I told him, 'Don't you ever do that again!'"

Donna laughed. "Not a fan of being on stage?"

"No, Eddie is the performer. Besides my old cheerleading days, I prefer to stay behind the scenes. We were married in a chapel down the road the next day. And rest is history."


In the second portion of the interview, Chrissy was told they'd do a walk-through of the main parts of the house as well as the property. This made her more uncomfortable than the sitting-down interview. She felt awkward and suddenly very aware of the way she walked. What was she supposed to do with her hands? Had her arms always been so… long?

She was glad she chose to wear and baggy cable knit sweater and leggings and black leather ankle boots instead of the dress she had almost picked. This was much more comfortable and appropriate for the chilly fall day.

"Someday I hope to have horses," Chrissy said as they passed the empty paddock and barn "We, as you know, grew up in a small town not too far from here and I always wanted horses. I lived near town so that wasn't an option and Eddie…"

"Eddie grew up in a trailer park," Donana filled in a little too eagerly. "Didn't he?"

Like Donna didn't already know the answer to that.

Eddie was not ashamed of his roots and neither was she. Chrissy lifted her chin, smiling cordially, and said, "Yes, yes he did. The last year of high school and the year after, before the band began touring, I spent more time there than I did my own house."

"And Eddie grew up not knowing his parents."

Chrissy froze. This hadn't been a part of the plan she and Eddie had gone over. "He grew up with his Uncle Wayne. He's a great man and did his best for Eddie."

Eddie had tried to buy a nice house in Florida or Arizona or wherever for Wayne to spend his retirement. Wayne wouldn't hear of it. He was born in Hawkins and wanted to stay there. Eddie begrudgingly agreed, and Wayne allowed him to make some much needed repairs to the trailer instead. Eddie also bought him a brand new Cadillac to celebrate his retirement from the plant. It was the least he could do for the man that raised him.

They visited Hawkins and Wayne often.


They finished up the interview outside with much less evasive questions, thankfully, and made their way back inside.

"This is breathtaking," Donna gushed as they walked into the kitchen. Chrissy agreed, it was breathtaking. One wall was practically solid windows that allotted views of the pasture and an arboretum of trees that bordered the property. The wall to the right was exposed brick in browns and reds. A long dining table was laid out in front of it. They chose to make the formal dining room into an office, knowing they'd never use it and have a table in the kitchen instead. The space was big enough.

The appliances were top of the line and the black and grey marble countertops accentuated the tile flooring. Instead of being grandiose and cold, as Chrissy was initially afraid it would be, the room was warm and comfortable. You wanted to make a cup of tea and pull up one of the barstools to the island and relax while enjoying the view. Which is exactly what she did every morning.

"I love it. It's my favorite room in the house." Besides their bedroom, which Donna will not be seeing.

When they were in the back hall leading to the basement stairs and Eddie's studio, Chrissy heard the distinctive rumble of an approaching car. Eddie's jet-black Chevy Camaro IROC-Z to be exact. Accompanied by the boom, boom, boom of music thumping from its speakers.

Soon Eddie burst through the kitchen door that led to the garage. Ever the showman, he yelled for Chrissy. "Hey, baby! Chrissy! Where are you?"

Donna's eyes lit up at the unexpected visitor. Chrissy, grinning, called out. "Back here, Eddie."

"There you are!" He said when he found them at the basement door. He warped his arms around her and kissed her noisily on the lips, the camera click, click, clicking. Zooming in.

"Finish up early?" She asked. He had a few things to take care of in the city and he was not expected home till the interview was well over. Chrissy didn't mind. He handled these situations better than her. And Donna seemed thrilled he was there. He is who the fans really want to see anyway.

"Yep. It's good to see you, Donna," he said, unwinding himself from Chrissy long enough to take Donna's hand. "Looking good."

Is Donna Mackenzi blushing? Chrissy hid her grin, Eddie was a harmless flirt.

"Always a pleasure. Will you be joining us?" Donna asked when she recovered. She had interviewed the band once or twice while they were on the road, Chrissy didn't know exactly how many times. She wasn't present for those interviews.

"I was just going to show Donna your studio."

He added a studio to the house so he and the band could practice and write and record and still be close to home. Being on the road, and apart from one another, was hard enough. This cut down on the time he spent away. It was all Eddie. Black and grey and chrome with the best equipment they could afford.

"Sure I'll join you. But I think we should show off the new room first. The one we just got furniture for?" He said, winking conspicuously.

"Eddie," Chrissy cautioned.

"Come on, it'll be fun," he said, pulling Chrissy by the hand. Donna and the camera crew gamely followed. They climbed the traditional, yet elegant u-shaped wood staircase. The railing smooth under hand, the aged treads squeaking underneath their weight.

The chandelier, original to the house, had been restored and little rainbows bounced around as the sun caught in the crystals. The walls were painted a warm light peach, tying in nicely with the oak flooring. A large landing gave way to a long hallway. Two doors on each side of the hall, and a bathroom at the very end.

They passed their own bedroom, the first door on the right, and entered the room next to it. "It's not finished yet," Chrissy said when they filed in and Donna gasped. She seemed genuinely caught off guard. This wasn't part of the interview plan either.

Standing behind Chrissy, Eddie wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. "I'm just excited. I want everyone to know," he whispered into her ear.

She rubbed his arm, smiling warmly at him over her shoulder. "I know."

"Chrissy, are you…" Donna asked with a genuine smile on her face.

She went to the crib that Eddie had put together himself just the day before. For the nursery, Chrissy wanted a classic look. The crib, the bassinet that will be in their own room for as long it needs to be. The changing table/dresser.

Her favorite piece so far was the rocking chair they found at an antique store in Chicago. It was the first thing they bought when they found out Chrissy was pregnant.

"Yes. Quite pregnant actually. Six and a half months." Though everyone that knew said she wasn't showing much, she felt huge. Eddie seemed to revel in her pregnant body. Their sex life is better than ever and he constantly tells her how beautiful she is.

Donna clapped excitedly. "Well, isn't that wonderful! Congratulations! Tell me! How did you find out, how did you tell Eddie?"

Chrissy eyed Eddie and he chuckled and said, "It wasn't a huge surprise." They'd been trying since they got married. Before then if you included irresponsibility as trying for a baby.

"I was sick and starving at the same time. Exhausted too. I went to the doctor and she confirmed it."

"I was fucking ecstatic!" Eddie said with a loud laugh.

"Well isn't that wonderful? What about names? Anything picked out yet?"

Eddie's hands encircled Chrissy's belly making it noticeable only now through her baggy sweater. "Little Mac after Chrissy's favorite band, Fleetwood Mac. Or Bon. After Bon Scott."

Chrissy swatted playfully at Eddie's arm. "We are not naming our child Bon!"

"Bon is only the best rocker in all the world, lead of one of the most legendary bands, AC/DC… may he rest in peace," Eddie said with a smile of affection and pride radiating off of him. It was contagious. Chrissy could almost feel it vibrating through her.

Maybe Bon Scott wasn't such a bad name after all.