1977

“The new wave of music has pushed through into the radio waves and bands are creating a new sound that doesn't have the exact sound of traditional rock and roll but is definitely the same lifestyle. Sex, drugs, tattoos, and alcohol. Today we are with one of the first bands with this sound to break from the sleazy clubs of New York City and into mainstream music. But their careers are already on rocky waters with the hospitalization of their lead member. Today we will meet with the band, ‘The Lips’ one of the first of the punk rock music bands to reach such success. I will be speaking to the lead singer who goes by Blondie, and everything that has brought them up to their first world tour as their album goes number one across thirty-seven countries.”

I was not an alcoholic.

I was not an alcoholic.

I couldn't be an alcoholic.

Do you ever try to think back to a certain time and can't because you were drunk? That's what my life consisted of the past few years. Did that happen or was I drunk? I hadn't performed sober since the days I would wear my uniform and sing in church.

Today I was sober, I had to be if I was going to be interviewed by a woman who is known for calling people's bullshit out. The boys were brought in first and asked about how they met, nothing too personal, just about how they got to be a band. It was stories had already heard, up to the point where they found their old singer dead over an overdose. I realized why they cared so much about me as Mitch spoke to Barbara.

“Do you feel like you could have stopped him?” she questioned.

“We knew he wasn't going to stop, we should have stopped him, but we all had our own struggles with life and in no position to have helped him with this.” they all agreed.

"With tragic news, came good?" They spoke some more about me before she nodded, turning to the camera.

“When we come back, we will talk to what the boys call ‘the light at the end of the tunnel.’ stay tuned.”

It was my turn to sit down and be interviewed next, Harry came over to me in his suit and smiled at me. It was strange how a simple suit could make us look more presentable as a band. You could tell Barbara was expecting us to be assholes and was shocked when Harry shook her hand and was genuinely polite. “You alright?”

I sat at the couch where we were doing the interview and nodded. “I didn't know you guys cared about me that much,” I admitted.

“You know you're my wife, so you know that I love you. Mitch thinks of you as one of his best friends. The boys consider you a sister. Well besides Pink who occasionally checks you out.” I smiled. “It isn't about the money or the tour Deb, it's about not losing you. There will always be money, but there is only one you.” I nodded, looking up to him and kissing him on the cheek before I was called over.

“We're back with Blondie, the lead singer and a very talked about woman in the media right now. Before we get to talking, I'm interested in what happened to you. There are many reports on domestic violence between you and your husband who is in the band.” I smiled and shook my head.

“No, I had a bad fall after I had a few too many and I fell headfirst against a wall. It sounds dumb, but if it wasn't for Harry I would have bled out I'm sure. I'm very clumsy on stage as well and have hurt myself once or ten times.” she nodded.

“So putting the rumors to rest, you and your husband are doing fine?” I looked across the room and smiled at Harry before nodding. Yes he cheated on me, yes he hurt me, and yes I hated it, but I loved him.

“We're great, and life is good.”

“Tell me then, you're twenty-three, how long have you been in the band?”

“I met Harry in 1972, I had never sung rock music or even knew much about it. I carried these albums with me of Led Zeppelin and that was my only connection to rock music.”

“I find that hard to believe, you didn't grow up with that music?” I shook my head.

“No my mother was religious, I sang in a church as a young girl and I craved more in life. I left when I was a teen to live with the band and at that time they were just supportive of me wanting more and it was Harry who let me sing with them and then it was almost obvious that I would be part of their band.”

We went back into my childhood, talking about my father and my mother. It was odd because I began talking about my younger years and musical inspiration from my parents, something I never talked about with Harry. “Did your mother sing, or your father?”

“My dad sang, he was a guitarist and he was drafted into Vietnam and was shot. He was always telling me to sing, and I know that he would have loved to watch me perform.”

“What about your mother?” I gulped, feeling my skin itch.

“She wanted me to be married and a housewife, singing was a hobby to her and I knew that in the church you usually get stuck doing the same songs. I didn't want to do that, I wanted to write music that meant more than just loving God.” I gulped.

“Do you still believe in God?” she asked.

“Yes I do, I wouldn't be here if I didn't.” she nodded.

“Let's talk about the heart of glass, the entire album is doing well and I have to ask what that song is about? Who wrote it?”

“I did with Mitch and Billie, it was a song that was written about just a relationship that was...a pain in the ass I guess.” I laughed. “Sometimes music doesn't need a reason, the fans give it reason and use that song to express themselves. If I say it's about a bad relationship and that's it, it loses the meaning to someone. You have to write music and let people create their own meaning.”

“So the song isn't about your husband?” I shook my head lying.

“It's about nothing and everything and that's it.” I shrugged.

Later that night I sat on the roof of our house and smoked a cigarette as I stared at the stars. I felt a presence behind me and turned to find Harry climbing up the ladder to come to sit beside me. “What in the hell are you doing up here, it's cold.” he wrapped a blanket around me and shivered.

“I'm thinking, this tour is going to be a year and I don't want to fight with you or cry.” I looked down. “I've been a drunk for years Harry and I'm scared.”

“Hey, you're not a drunk, you just- you're going to be fine and I'll be there for you. It's okay to have a drink but not when you use it to solve your problems.” he shrugged.

“You don't get it. I get so nervous before a show and I get drunk. I have to talk to new people I get drunk, I think about when I was a kid and I get drunk and I don't remember certain nights because I would be blacked out.” I began crying. “I don't want to be this person.”

I felt his arm pull me close and hold me. “I'm sorry that you rely on it, but you already are taking the first steps and admitting that you have a problem, that's big.” I looked up at him. “ I love you, and I'm gonna be here for you. We won't drink the whole tour, you can try meetings?”

What I hated the most about all of this was the fact that I had denied it for so long. Had I been this blind to all the times I had a glass of whiskey or vodka in my hand. The mornings I woke up and drank alcohol before I had anything in my stomach. When my mind began to think about my mother taking the side of the man that touched me, my brothers disappointment and my failure in all the little things I couldn't do, I would turn to a bottle.

I shivered and looked towards Harry and noticed that snow had begun to fall. “You should go in, it's cold,” I told him.

“I'll go in when you go in. We're in this together.” I looked down at my fingers that were turning purple. I was numb, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn't from the alcohol.

“Okay, let's go inside.”

Thanks for reading. Xx

-k