"That afternoon found Ritch and Aaron teaching Eric how not to get murdered while living in the city. It was around 4:30 when Joy entered the shop to see Valerie watching her husband and friend collectively pin the young Wisconsinite to the ground.
"You can't let your guard down," Ritch was saying. "You don't have to be paranoid, but if you zone out, you're a walking target."
"And if someone does threaten you, give them what they want. Otherwise, you'll just end up on the ground. Your life is more important than your watch or your wallet."
"Right…can I get up now?"
"They stood and Ritch extended a hand to help the teen up. Aaron continued their lesson.
"If you're heading somewhere you're not familiar with, and it isn't close, especially at night, just take a cab, man. No offense, but you look like easy pickings."
"I'm flattered."
Aaron noticed his girlfriend standing next to Valerie by the counter. "Hey babe," he grinned, going up to her and kissing her, smiling when she slipped her hands into the back pockets of his jeans. "How was work?"
"Boring as always," Joy smiled, turning to Eric. "Learning some things?"
"Yeah, they were just showing me how to avoid a repeat of last night."
"Are you feeling better? Your face…"
"It looks a lot worse than it feels," he assured her.
"Good."
"So, turns out we're taking everyone out tonight," Aaron informed his girlfriend.
"Oh, that'd better mean you too, Eric," she said.
"I already invited him. Promised to show him what a real club looks like."
"Great, so we go change, meet back here at seven?" Valerie suggested.
"Sounds good," Aaron said, slipping his arm around Joy and turning to leave, though Joy stopped and regarded Eric with concern.
"You don't have much by way of clothes, do you?"
He didn't want to admit that he was down to his last clean shirt, but before Eric could come up with a sarcastic response to cover the truth, she gestured for him to follow them. "I bet we can find you something to wear."
Smiling at his girlfriend's kindness, Aaron clapped Eric on the shoulder. "You can borrow something of mine. There's no way we're taking you out wearing that getup."
"Gee, thanks…" Eric said, smiling in spite of himself. When they stepped out onto the sidewalk, he expected them to hail a cab, but instead the couple turned to the left and strolled down the street.
"Where do you guys live?"
"We've got a flat a few blocks down."
When the trio came to a relatively nice apartment building, Aaron pulled a set of keys from his pocket and let them in, and Eric gawked at the living space in front of him.
This was the lifestyle that he'd imagined when he came to Chicago- a splendid mix of modern, bohemian, and urban decorations covered every inch of the space. It wasn't huge; there was a living room, two doors that must have led to a bathroom and a bedroom, and a small space raised slightly from the den area- the kitchen. A reina chair sat in the corner, and a guitar sat in a stand nearby, which made perfect sense, given the inhabitants of the apartment. Contrasting that, there was a large bookshelf full of history books and an impressive collection of classic fiction- seemingly odd choices for his new friends. A coffee table filled with professional looking notebooks and papers sat across from a modest television set. It was the perfect culmination of simple living and city living.
Aaron went off into the bedroom and Joy wandered to the kitchen area, warning Eric not to trip over the step when he moved to join her.
"So...you're a secretary?" he began awkwardly.
"Yeah, nothing too exciting, just filing papers, getting coffee…. stupid stuff. I'm just working my way up, you know?"
After a pause, and a glance at her semi-professional work clothes, Eric admitted, "I really wouldn't have pegged you for something so…"
"Boring? Mainstream?" she smiled.
"I wasn't going to say that."
"That's okay, that's what I would say. It pays the bills and I know I'll eventually be working somewhere better," noting the faint tinge of of red on his ears, she smirked. "You have a tendency to put your foot in your mouth, huh?"
"Well, it is my nature," he said in resignation.
"Hey, Forman!" Aaron called from the bedroom. "Come try this out."
Entering the small bedroom, Eric saw the slightly older man holding some dark jeans and a belt.
"If these ft, you can keep them. I never wore them, they're too short," he said, stepping out to give him some privacy.
Despite being too small for Aaron, they were the perfect fit for the young Forman, flaring slightly and falling over his shoes. Eric had a few pairs of jeans, but they'd always been light wash, straight legged, and usually only worn on weekends. You know, jeans that Red would approve of. These jeans were pants that Fez or Hyde or Kelso would wear.
"They fit?" Aaron asked, reentering the room.
"Yeah…are you sure you don't want them?"
"Consider it a donation towards your new Chicago life," Joy chimed in, following her boyfriend, and pulling a shirt and jacket from the closet. "He doesn't wear these either." When Eric donned the new garments, she smiled. "You look like Robert Redford."
Aaron snorted. "Don't go raising his hopes too high, Babe."
Eric smiled. "Guys…thanks."
The young couple smiled back. "Stop thanking us for doing nothing."
"Saving my life and helping me out isn't nothing."
"That's just being a decent human being," Joy said.
Eric nodded absently, secretly thinking about the fact that no one he'd ever met would ever be this "decent" to a perfect stranger- not even the friendliest people of Point Place.
"Alright, enough of this love-fest," Aaron said, looking at his watch. "We gotta change too."
"Right, sorry," Eric said, ducking out into the living room and looking around while he waited. He knew very little about guitars, but he could tell the one next to the reina chair was of very good quality. Moving over to the bookshelves, he noted the impressive and extensive collection of records; everyone from Cream to Zeppelin was present.
The bedroom door opened and Aaron emerged, dressed similarly to Eric, flicking his hair out of his face.
"She'll be out in a minute. Or an hour," he grinned, "it could go either way."
"Whose guitar?"
"Mine. You play?"
"No, no. My mom made me take piano lessons as a kid, but that's the closest I ever came to being a musician."
"Never too late to learn," Aaron shrugged, before Joy emerged, her hair full of volume, her makeup re-vamped, and her clothes much more exciting and fit for a nightclub.
"Okay, it's 6:45, ready to go?"
After a short walk back to the record store, they found Ritch and Valerie locking up the establishment.
"So how away far is this place?" Eric asked.
"'Bout a mile south of here."
Looking around, he didn't see a car. "Are we taking a cab?"
"You kidding?" Ritch chuckled. "There's an energy crisis. We're walking."
The five young adults started heading in the direction of the club as the sun was going down. In no time at all they were standing out front of an enormous establishment, lit up in a hazy fluorescent splendor. Even though the club had opened only ten minutes before, a long line had formed out front. Eric could tell just from the crowd that this was indeed a "real" nightclub; the patrons were mostly over the age of 21, were better dressed and far better looking than the hoard of people that had been at the disco he'd tried the night before. And was that Kate Jackson passing through the front doors?
"Are we even gonna make it in?" the teen asked, eyeing the long line.
"Have faith," Valerie smiled, as Joy led the way to the front of the queue. The people waiting looked on indignantly, but also with curiosity, wondering if anyone in the little entourage was a celebrity.
"We know the bouncer," Ritch informed Eric. "And the owner."
"Seriously?"
"Hey buddy," Aaron greeted the bouncer. "What's going on?"
"Not much. Who's the new guy?"
"Eric Forman, meet Carl."
"Hi," Eric said nervously.
"Hey. What happened to your face?"
Shit. He'd forgotten about his black eye.
"He got in a fight saving a girl," Ritch assisted smoothly.
"Nice. Have a good time," Carl said as he moved the velvet rope out of their way.
"Thanks," Aaron said, as Eric looked to Ritch with an eyebrow raised.
"Well, it is true," he shrugged. "Didn't that guy punch you when you tried to stop him from hurting his girlfriend?"
"Yeah," Eric said in realization, not having thought of it that way.
"Didn't realize you were a badass, did you?" Joy teased.
Eric didn't answer, too busy looking around at the interior of the club. The first floor had booths and a bar, and a huge dance floor currently filled with a crowd of writhing bodies. A DJ booth was set on a raised platform, where the DJ could watch the crowd and control the music and lights all at once. A set of stairs led up to a sort of loft, where VIPs could party without being disturbed by the "riffraff" of normal patrons. Though no one here could possibly be considered normal; everyone looked like a millionaire, an heiress, or a movie-star. Eric felt very out of place.
"So…what do we do?"
"Let's start by dancing," Joy laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him onto the dance floor. She started to move, and he looked on in terror; there was no way the goofy overdramatic dancing would work here. Aaron, Ritch and Valerie all came to his aid, showing him how a couple should dance at a club. After a minute or two of trying it out, Valerie and Ritch led him to the bar.
"Now just try it out with someone else," Valerie suggested.
"Who?"
Ritch casually turned over to the girl next to him. "Hi, would you like to dance with my friend here?"
The pretty young girl smiled. "Sure, why not?"
Eric tried not to panic as he walked with her back over to the dance floor. Channeling Travolta, he took a breath and started to dance, or the closest thing to it that he could manage. It seemed to work, as she smiled and followed suit.
There he was, actually dancing with a gorgeous girl in the most exclusive club in Chicago. Why hadn't he run away earlier?
This was far more fun than he'd had at the disco the night before.
"Hey, what happened to your eye?" the girl asked in the middle of a slow song. He almost didn't hear her question, as he was focusing on guiding her around the dance floor as carefully as possible.
"Oh, I…uh…I tried to help a girl…her boyfriend was being a jerk, and I stepped in and he punched me."
"Wow, that is so brave," she said in awe.
"Yeah, well," he shrugged, embarrassed.
Eventually they broke apart, and she left him with a wink.
"I had a great time," she said with a smile.
When she was gone, he turned back to his friends, who were sitting at a huge red booth, a round of drinks in hands.
"Look at you, an hour into it and you're making new friends," Joy smiled.
"Don't forget us when you're partying with Farrah," Ritch said.
Eric smiled and sat down, and Aaron slid him a beer. They sat and talked as the lights flashed across their faces. When a slow, gentle song came on, Aaron and Joy returned to the dance floor, wrapping their arms around each other. Joy nestled her face in his shoulder, and he rested his cheek on her head. Eric watched the moment and his heart panged, wishing Donna were there to dance with him.
"I'll get the next round," Ritch said, giving Valerie a kiss on the forehead before sliding out of the booth and heading to the bar.
This was the first time that Valerie and Eric were really alone together since being introduced, so Eric cleared his throat and struck up a conversation. They began to talk about their home towns, and Eric took the opportunity to ask if she was, in fact, Native American.
"Yeah, I grew up on a reservation with my family. I left to go to college...eventually I met Ritch… and the rest is history," she concluded, clearly leaving out a lot of time between those events.
"You know," Eric shouted over the music. "That's really cool."
"You should hear where Joy came from before settling here," Valerie smiled. "It's much more interesting than that."
Before he could ask what she meant, Joy, Aaron, and Ritch all returned. Aaron slipped a tablet out of his pocket and popped it into his mouth, then handed one to Joy. Noticing Eric watching them, Aaron held out one. "Wanna try?"
"What is it?" Eric asked, taking the little pill and inspecting it closely.
"Just gives you a little buzz," Aaron said. "Ever tried weed before? It's like that, but doesn't last as long."
"Careful," Ritch warned. "He might not be ready for that."
"No, I'm fine," Eric said, not bothering to explain that he was fairly experienced with marijuana, and that he should be fine with whatever this was. However, it didn't occur to him that the stuff Hyde supplied was weak, home grown stuff; the drugs he would encounter in Chicago were going to be far stronger.
He popped the pill into his mouth and waited for it to kick in. After a few minutes, it did.
dColors swirled and pulsed around him; sounds seemed to pulse in his ears as well. He didn't know what this drug was, but it was nice. It definitely wasn't heroin, cocaine, or LSD…perhaps it was something over the counter?
He felt too good to care.
He found another pretty girl at the bar and somehow found himself on the dance floor with her. The lights flashed and he found himself laughing, having the time of his life.
The high died down quickly, but he felt fine. He was sort of tired though, and decided not to have another.
"How'd you like that?" Aaron asked once it was over.
"Not bad," was all Eric could say, as he was still shaking the pleasant, fuzzy feeling from the edges of his brain.
Ritch chuckled, but scooted his beer away from Eric. "I think that's enough for now," he smiled. "You're too small for all of that at once."
"Hey, you're not exactly far from wiry yourself," Eric said defensively.
"Yeah, but I am bigger than you, and a little more used to it," Ritch smiled, with a hint of a paternal tone in his voice.
"Let's dance a little more," Joy said, grabbing Eric's hand and leading him to the dance floor once again.
...
The walk back to the record store cleared everyone's heads completely, and allowed them to talk with more concentration.
"So how do you guys know the owner of that place?" Eric asked as they crossed the street. The warmth of the summer persisted into the night, as did the lively activity that never seemed to leave the streets.
"He and Aaron were in a band a few years back," Joy said.
"And we supply the records they use at the club," Valerie said.
"Not to mention Joy knows everyone on the music scene," Aaron added, looking at his girlfriend with pride.
"Why's that?"
Joy smiled and ducked her head slightly in embarrassment. "I...traveled with a couple bands over the past few years."
"Woah, wait," Eric said, realizing exactly what she meant. "You were a groupie?"
So that's what Valerie had meant when she hinted at "where Joy came from!" Honestly, that made more sense to him than Joy being a secretary.
"We don't usually use the word groupie," she said. "We prefer Muses, or Music Supporters."
"Sorry, it's just…that's so cool! Who did you travel with?"
"Just about everyone," she said.
"Alice Cooper?"
"Yes, actually."
"Aerosmith?"
"No, but I met Steven Tyler at a party."
"Wait…Zeppelin?"
"…Yeah," she grinned, and Eric had to force himself not to freak out. However, he couldn't keep from asking her endless questions about what John Bonham was like, or if Stevie Nicks was as talented in real life as she was on record, or if Mick Jagger was nice…the list went on and on. Even if she had never been a groupie for a particular band, the odds were good that she had met them, or was friends with someone who knew them.
"So, don't take this the wrong way, but why-"
"Why retire from living on the road and settling here to be a secretary?" she grinned. "I get that a lot. I met Aaron. Plain and simple."
"She was on the road with us, and when we split up, I came back to Chicago. She came with me," Aaron said, giving his girlfriend a kiss on her forehead.
Eric watched them and wondered at how a former musician and a former groupie could be so…domestic. So in love.
By this time, they'd reached the record store and Valerie unlocked the door. As it turned out, Ritch and his wife lived right above the shop, in a comfortable flat much larger than Aaron and Joy's apartment. But then, they were business owners, and a few years older, after all.
"I'm starved," Ritch said. "Let's get something to eat."
It was then that Eric realized he hadn't eaten since that morning. No wonder the drugs and the beer had worked so strongly.
"Burgers?" Aaron offered. "I'll get them. Be back in a few."
As he left, Valerie turned and smiled at Eric. "Well, how did it feel to go to a real nightclub?"
"I definitely could tell the difference between last night and tonight," he grinned.
"And no one got injured," Ritch smiled, clapping Eric on the shoulder and producing a handful of cokes from the back room of the store.
After a few minutes of goofing off and hanging around, Aaron returned with burgers and fries for all.
Valerie put a record on and she and Ritch leaned against each other on the counter, enjoying their dinner. Joy and Aaron were doing the same against a rack of albums. Eric watched, dying for Donna to be there with him. God, he just could not get her out of his mind, could he?. Despite that, he didn't feel lost or unwelcome amongst the small group around him. In fact, he felt incredibly accepted as the five of them talked and laughed. Yet, all of their goofing off didn't seem as childish as vandalizing a water tower or dining and dashing. They were only a few years older than him, but they were so worldly and smart.
In fact, just being around them made Eric feel smarter and more mature. And why not? He'd done more living in one night than he had in a lifetime. Dancing with a pretty girl (actually dancing), drinking, doing drugs; none of these were really all that mature, but he'd done them of his own accord. He was his own person... Eric could already feel the difference between the version of himself that had woken up in the morning, and the version of himself that was sitting around with his friends talking about nothing. Granted, they both had black eyes, but that earlier version of himself was alone, and unaware of how to exist on his own at all. Morning Eric would have gotten himself stabbed in an alley, Evening Eric knew how to at least dodge a punch. And most importantly, he now had friends. Real friends that took him in and cared for him, showed him the ropes, saved his life. And because of that, he didn't mind when Joy produced a Polaroid camera, seemingly out of nowhere, and started taking snapshots to immortalize the pleasant moment.
Have you ever stopped in a moment, and realized that you could feel yourself changing for the better? For the first time, but not the last of the summer, Eric did feel such a thing.
Colors flashed and sounds pulsed in his ears, but this time it was joy, not adrenaline or drugs causing the sensation.