1977

The guys found me that night, sitting outside of their room. I didn't answer their questions on what had happened, walking in only to grab an extra pillow and throwing myself into a ball of self-hatred on the shag-carpeting, in their room. It was the next morning that I was woken up, we had a rehearsal for the show here in London, along with an important meeting David had set up for us. He truly believed in our band, and that we could become something more than what we are. I just feared that I had ruined everything, and Debra wasn't going to want to perform today.

I took a shower and was a little concerned because none of the guys had been inside the room when I stepped out in a towel. I had no clean clothes, so I stole some from the guys.

I stepped out into the hallway and was a bit confused as to why all of them stood in a circle outside Deb’s room. “What's going on?” The sound of Led Zeppelin music was loud in Deb’s room, I know for a fact that she always carried around her albums with her.

They all turned slowly over to me to give me a look of pure pain. Scared and worried, I walked over to see what they were looking at. A gasp escaped my mouth at the sight of my white fender broken in half, laying against the carpet of the hotel hallway. Her strings had been cut and it looked like she was smashed against the ground a dozen times.

I knew she would do this, but not this bad.

Pink picked up the guitar, pieces falling off if it. “Dude, what the fuck did you do to piss her off?” The guys all turned to me and I knew I had to warn them of the hell I had caused.

Mitch picked up something off the ground and I realized it was Debra’s wedding ring. I took it and slowly placed it in my pocket, looking down. “I cheated on her.” my voice was quiet

The music instantaneously came to a stop as they all glared at me. “What the fuck-”

“Are you serious?” I cursed as they all began talking, but we all stopped at the door opening to reveal Debra. Now, I didn't expect Debra to be depressed and crying, but I also didn't expect her to be dressed up the way she was right now. She had her hair done, a pair of dark sunglasses, and a dress too short not to be fucking with me. Her legs were covered in a pair of black tights and she was wearing a pair of heels high enough to be considered a weapon.

“Morning boys.” she smiled big at them and looked directly at me with a clear look of disgust.

She was drunk.

“Hey, Deb- are you uh ready?” Mitch asked carefully.

“Yup.” she looked down at the guitar parts on the ground and purposely stepped on it as she walked down the hallway. The guys all quickly followed and I just prayed today would go smoothly.

The car ride was as awkward as you can imagine. Deb and I sat as far from each other and the guys could practically feel the tension. She lit a cigarette and kept to herself the whole way.

When we arrived at our location we noticed it was an office. Bowie had been telling us constantly that we had to get a manager and he knew someone who could help us get farther on our own. With this new album being made, we really needed to step up our game.

I knew my actions had serious consequences when it came to Debbie and me. I had to talk to her and tell her that I didn't want this to change the band. If she would only look at me for more than two seconds.

We walked inside and I quickly grabbed her and pulled her back around the corner. She lost her balance and pushed me off when we were alone. “I need to talk to you.”

“And I need you to fuck off.” she pulled her arm away from me.

“Debra, you have no idea how terrible and fucked up I feel about all of this. But we are still married, and we are in this band together. We promised no matter what we would leave our problems out of the band.”

She let out a dry laugh and pulled her sunglasses off. Her eyes were bloodshot red, swollen, and dark. She had cried herself to sleep last night, and drinking had made her numb to it. “This is me leaving the problems out of the band Harry. If I brought the problems into the band, my ass would have been out of here before you guys even woke up. I have money saved up and I don't need shit from you anymore. You want me to stay in the band, then leave me the fuck alone.” She put her sunglasses back on and turned around, leaving me to stand there in the hallway.

The meeting went by in a complete blur, I only knew that we were now in works with a new manager who actually worked with big celebrities like David Bowie himself. He promised us things that seemed too good to be true, but it was a risk we had to take. He promised us a tour, more money, and more television performances which would ultimately sell more albums.

We performed that night in London in front of over twelve thousand people. Debra was on fire, she made this stage her bitch, and the crowd loved it. There was always a feeling of pure ecstasy when I was on stage. But tonight it felt more like someone had completely destroyed my confidence.

It was me, I ruined my own happiness.

During the last song, Deb went to Mitch and did the dance she usually does with me and that shit hurt more than anything else.

We had a flight that next morning and as we walked back down our hotel hallway I stopped in front of Debs door, asking quietly if I could get my things. “Sure.” she shrugged walking in. She left the door open and quickly grabbed all of her stuff and began looking through her clothes for her pajamas and clothes for the next day.

My guitar was sitting shattered against the closet, and I immediately felt a pull at my heartstrings. I had that guitar for so long and it meant a lot to me. I had to borrow one of the guitars from David tonight, but now I had to buy another one.

I must have been staring too long at the guitar because Deb let out a sigh and quietly spoke to me. “I lost my temper, I didn't mean to smash it like that. I was just going to cut the strings.”

“No, I deserve it.” I tossed it aside, letting the hotel deal with the trash that it was now. “I'll go now.” I left the room and went next door to the guy's room where they were all talking. I stood there as they all stopped and gave me looks that seemed mixed with anger and sympathy.

“Guys come on, he fucked up but he's still our brother.” Pink came over to me and put an arm around me. “You want to smoke a pound and go to sleep? Hmm, little boy blue?” I nodded watching as he pulled a brown bag from his suitcase and told me to follow him out to the balcony. There I smoked all my memories away.

Debra

I had never in my life felt this type of pain, a pain in my heart that was so deep to my core. What I hated the most about everything was that I wanted to forgive Harry and move on. Was this just part of the rockstar lifestyle? It didn't matter at this point, all I wanted was a hot shower and to sleep as long as I could. Of course, that wasn't going to be an option.

I needed a guitar, and since I ruined Harry's, I decided to ask the next best thing. Making my way towards the boy's room, I gently knocked, praying that Harry wouldn't open the door. Luckily it was Mitch and he seemed to have been reading while all the guys smoked on the balcony. “Hey, you okay?”

“Physically I'm fine, emotionally I'm a peach that's been dropped to the floor too many times.”

“Bruised?” I nodded.

“Can I borrow your guitar, I'm working on a song?”

“You're not going to bust it like Harry's right?” I laughed and shook my head. “Do you mind if I come over, I can't sleep either and I'm pretty sure some shits about to go down in my book.” I shrugged watching as he grabbed his guitar and walked out of the room with me to my room.

I sat on the ground and began playing gently the few chords I had learned with Harry over the years. Mitch was so into his book that when I began singing the lyrics of the song I had been working on, he lifted his head at my words. “Once I had a love and it was a gas, soon turned out to be a pain in the ass.”

Mitch began laughing and shook his head. “You work quick.” I looked down at my hands and felt drops falling down onto the guitar. “Shit- I'm sorry Deb you know I'm on your side with this, right?” I shook my head telling him not to worry about me.

“I can't be Debbie anymore, Debbie is weak and a small church girl who just wants to be married and have kids.” I strummed the guitar. “I'm Blondie right now because she doesn't cry for some man who sticks his dick into anything- go get Billie and tell him to bring his keyboard.” I wanted this song done now.

Music would become my therapy, it was as far less expensive.

Thanks for reading. Xx

-k