Page 53 of Tumbling Hearts

It’s so good. So motherfucking good, that he almost forgets where he even is.

He’s on tour with the Dusty Brooms, Nicky at his side, sitting on the bed in his hotel room.

Oh yeah, Nicky offered me this.

“Quick, Nicky, turn on some music.” Gene motions his hand towards the transistor radio sitting atop the dresser.

“Any sort of mood you have in mind?” Nicky turns it on, messing with the dial—the static singing something strange in Gene’s ears.

The white noise of the radio mimics the same white noise in his mind.

“Um… anything. Just pick anything.”

“Alright.”

He keeps turning the dial until he finds something, anything. The first sound that can be recognized as music is a song Gene knows: ‘Silly Love Songs’ by Wings. Nicky stops the dial there, tuning it so the signal is clear, and lets it play.

As the song flows through Gene’s ears and into his brain, a pleasant warmth flutters in his chest. It adds to the good feeling of the high, music combining with it all. His mind isn’t completely numb yet. He takes what little bit he has left of it to focus on the song.

Paul McCartney is absolutely right. There’s nothing wrong with wanting to write silly love songs. Gene wants to write more, that’s for damn sure. But writing will have to wait another day.

Why can’t he and Ray write one now?

Oh, Ray’s in the other room.

He’ll worry about that later.

There are no worries here now.

All that matters is surfing on this high, catching wave after wave.

Their show in Boston is wonderful, as is every show on this tour. It amazes Gene how many fans they have literally everywhere—so many faces jam-packed in the crowd, standing and huddled as close as they can get. There’s enough space and security to keep them off the stage, though. A completely different setting from how the Dusty Brooms had first started out. To think, it was only a few years ago when they were playing in small clubs, stages so low that people could easily jump up and ambush them. That’s basically what happened when Ray got together with Harriet.

But now, unfortunately for Gene, Ray is with Carol. She never seems to ever leave his side. Gene guesses she probably stays there because she has nowhere else to be, which makes sense. Her only friends (that Gene knows of) are the other band members. Maybe she’s friendly with the other models she meets at her gigs, but there’s none she’s close with, especially since they likely all live far away from each other.

Gene thinks back to when he first met Carol, she’d expressed a sort of envy that he had such a close friendship with Ray. It’s still true, only now that friendship has evolved into something deeper, more complicated. And with that, Gene can sense Carol has been feeling even more envious, if what he heard her say to Ray yesterday is anything to go by.

But Gene can’t help himself. If he can be with Ray, he wants to seize the opportunity.

Which is why he’s hanging out with Ray now, despite Carol also being present. They’re sitting in the greenroom after the show, backstage at the Boston Garden, relaxing before everyone decides to head back to the hotel. He’d thought of asking Nicky for more of that stuff they smoked yesterday, but figures it’s probably best to space out any usage. With the otherworldly high he’d gotten—whatever it was—it’s likely in his best interests to only have that stuff once in a while. Don’t want to get desensitized to it right away.

Carol is sitting next to Ray on a couch, while Gene sits in a folding chair in front of them, although closer to Ray. Gene takes a drag of his cigarette, not paying any mind to the rest of the room—focusing solely on his best friend. Ray always looks so goddamn beautiful; tonight he’s wearing a flowy blouse, scarf hanging over his shoulders, and of course that sparkly blue eyeshadow accentuating his already very blue eyes. Gene could stare at him all day.

What keeps him going is how Ray seems to stare back at him the exact same way. The kind of look in his eyes that Gene knows well—admiration, affection. Gene almost misses what he says because he’s so caught up being mesmerized by his gaze.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Gene chuckles, shaking his head a little.

“I said, I wonder if Maurice would want to visit Andy Warhol again at our stop in NYC,” Ray says with a forgiving smile.

“Oh, maybe. I guess that depends on if Warhol’s home.”

“That’s true. We should ask Dennis about that, since we have an extra free day in New York because of Carrie’s modeling gig.”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely.” Finally, a day where she won’t be attached to Ray’s hip.

“You guys are free to do whatever,” Carol says. “As you… normally do.”

Gene pouts, taking another drag of his cigarette. “You’ve been in New York a lot more than us for your modeling. So you’ve seen more of the city than us. Maybe if Warhol’s not home, we all could explore.”