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thisapplepielife · 4 months ago

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Written for a @astrangersummer.

Firing on All Cylinders

Week #16 Prompt: Concert & Rain | Word Count: 3000 | Rating: T | POV: Jeff | Characters: Jeff, Goodie (Freak), Gareth, Steve, Eddie | Relationships: Jeff & Goodie, Background Steddie, Mentions of Previous Gareth/Di (OC) | CW: Language, Mentions of Previous Addiction | Tags: AU, Famous Corroded Coffin, 1990s, On Tour, Slice of Life, Jeff and Goodie are Best Friends Who Talk About The Problems of Their Other Friends, Rain Show, Road Manager Steve Harrington, Eddie Loves His Guitar and This Rain is a Real Problem

June 8, 1995

"Looks like real rain today," Jeff says, standing in front of the hotel window.

It's really fucking coming down here in Tulsa, so much so that Jeff can't really see much beyond the edge of the windowsill.

As his dad would say, it's going and blowing.

"Rain? You think?" Goodie says, then adds, "What gave it away? The torrential downpour?"

Jeff laughs. Asshole.

They've been lucky so far and haven't ever had to play in the rain, at least not rain like is forecasted for tonight, but that's clearly gonna end today.

"It's basically a hundred percent chance all day long," Goodie says from the couch, less snarky this time. He's reading the morning paper that had been dropped off at their room door.

Jeff rests his forehead against the cool glass, contemplating everything that is bound to go wrong tonight, now.

"This is gonna be a problem," Jeff finally announces, still looking at the sheets of rain hitting the windowsill.

"No fucking shit," Goodie answers, "Eddie's gonna be a real pain in the ass about that precious guitar of his."

Jeff nods, because Eddie is undoubtedly going to be exactly that, "I'm gonna call Tim. See if we can head this off at the pass."

And he picks up the room phone, scans the contact sheet that Steve left with them, and calls the room with his guitar tech in it.

"Tim, is Artie there?" Jeff asks, sitting in the office chair, swiveling slightly.

"Yep. We're already on the same page," Tim answers immediately, and they probably are. Artie's been Eddie's guitar tech long enough to know how he's gonna react to the prospect of pouring rain during an outdoor gig. "Sweetheart would be fine, you know? All your guitars will be fine. We can prepare for this, we have time, and we had ample warning that it's gonna be like this. This is the best case scenario. Seriously. This isn't a surprise storm, and so far, we aren't looking at lightning."

"I know, I know. And I'm not worried about my guitar. I trust you. But Eddie's not gonna play her in the rain. You know he's not," Jeff says, because they all know that. They do. It's never gonna happen. Sweetheart is more than a guitar, and Eddie will have nothing risking her.

Especially not after the broken neck debacle. She's already been bunged up by touring, and thankfully fucking fixed, but Eddie's not gonna purposefully drown her.

"We know he's not," Tim says, "so we'll make arrangements."

"Good, good. What do you think? I'm thinking we have three options," Jeff says, "One, you run out and buy Eddie something new in town. A throwaway. Something he has no emotional attachment to."

Tim is relaying the idea to Artie, and Jeff can hear Artie disagreeing, which Jeff gets. Eddie won't want to play a guitar he doesn't know, "Same page. Two, he plays Hercules. I think this is fifty-fifty, depending on his mood. Or three, we get him some options ready from my spare guitars on the trailer. That way he'll be familiar, at least."

Jeff hears them murmuring, mulling it all over, and then they agree that those last two options seem the most likely. They're gonna call a meeting later, once they get a hold of Steve for the logistics, but they'll be ready for either. Or if Eddie surprises them. But he won't.

Jeff is just settling down on the couch next to Goodie when the door swings open, Gareth poking his head in, "It's gonna rain all day."

"Is it really? I had no idea," Goodie snarks, and Jeff smiles.

"Fuck you, too, Goodie," Gareth says dryly, then looks back at Jeff, "Steve's on top of it."

"Thanks. We called the techs," Jeff tells him, and then the door slams shut behind him.

"I really gotta stop giving him a key to my room," Goodie says, and Jeff laughs.

"I think this is my room," Jeff answers, looking around, but Goodie's shit is all over the room, too. They have separate suites. They have the money to do that now, but old habits die hard, and they often end up crashing together, still. The road is lonely, and an empty room is often just depressing. He's not sure how Gareth is functioning on his own, especially now that he's sober.

"Omaha's coming up," Jeff says, because every time he thinks of Gareth, that's all he can worry about. That looming tour date. The disappointment that's sure to follow when Gareth's ex-girlfriend doesn't show up to see the Tom Petty heavy encore set they've put together, just for her.

"I'm well aware of where Di is," Goodie says dryly, "I haven't forgotten that we just spent all that time learning shitty songs she'll never hear."

They aren't shitty. Goodie's just being a contrarian. Jeff knows that. Knows him better than he knows anyone else on earth. And Goodie doesn't mean half the shit he says, he just says it to ruffle feathers. Gareth's feathers, if possible.

"Your Honey Bee is good, though," Goodie concedes.

And it is. They've whipped all the songs into decent shape, but Honey Bee feels damn good. Natural. Electric. Diana would really like it, Jeff thinks, and he hopes that maybe, just maybe, she'll show up to hear it. Either way, covering songs, giving them their own Corroded Coffin twist, is still some of the most fun they have on the road.

"She might come," Jeff says, even if he doesn't believe it. Gareth fucked his relationship up, probably well beyond repair, and now Gareth just has to live with it. They all have to live with it. Which, honestly, has been more stressful than when Eddie first got with Steve and drove them all nuts. At least Eddie was happy.

Gareth is withdrawn, quiet. He's different in a way Jeff can't really pinpoint. Not yet. Only time will tell how this all shakes out. If he's growing up, if he can change, or if this is all gonna explode in their faces when he doesn't get what he wants, two days from now.

"She won't fucking come if she knows what's good for her, and Gareth? He's not good for her," Goodie says, flipping to the next page in his newspaper. Jeff's pretty sure he's not reading a damn word of it.

Jeff thinks that's pretty harsh. They're supposed to be supportive of Gareth, here. He's their friend, their bandmate. Their kid to look after. It's been that way forever. They love him.

"She might come," Jeff says. Because she might. Anything can happen. He can't see the future.

"Well, she'd be a goddamn fool, then. I told her to run, to not take any of his shit, and she better listen to ol' Goodie."

Jeff cuts a knowing look at Goodie, "You also gave Gareth a pep talk last winter, telling him she'd marry him someday. So, pick a lane. You can't bet on both outcomes. It's unsportsmanlike."

Goodie sighs, "You aren't supposed to know that. Gareth has a big mouth."

Jeff fucking laughs. There are no secrets between them, and he's not sure why Goodie thought he didn't know. Of course he knows.

Goodie keeps talking, "Well. Both can be true. She's not coming this week. But yeah. Someday. Someday she will. And when she does, I'll still tell her it's a mistake, but she won't listen."

"You sound awfully invested," Jeff says, poking at Goodie.

"It's been our own private soap opera for how long now? Of course I'm invested. I don't have time for television, I gotta be entertained somehow."

Jeff just shakes his head.

"Well, is he gonna relapse, when she doesn't show up, old wise one?" Jeff asks, mainly teasing. But he is worried about it.

"No," Goodie says.

"No?" Jeff asks.

"No," Goodie confirms.

She most likely won't come, they all know it, and Steve's on top of that, too, making a plan to limit the fallout. If Gareth relapses, they're all fucked. This tour schedule cannot accommodate it. No way.

They would. Of course they would. But it would probably mean the tour will come to a screeching halt. All momentum lost.

"If he falls off the wagon, I'm chaining him to said wagon, and dragging him along behind us," Goodie says.

"You say, to a black man," Jeff says.

Goodie lowers the paper, so Jeff can finally see his eyes, "Didn't mean it like that. Jesus."

"I know," Jeff says, and he does know that. Goodie's been his best friend since they were too little to understand what that meant. But still. Not the best imagery.

"He won't fall off the wagon. We won't let him," Jeff proclaims, as if this is within their control.

Goodie says what he was thinking.

"Like we've ever been able to control that kid. Eddie barely can, and Eddie's so far up Steve's ass-"

"Literally," Jeff cuts in, teasing.

"-now that Steve's back on tour, even Eddie doesn't have the time to babysit."

It's true. It's all true. As much as the undercurrent of worry is there, they can't expend the energy on it today. They don't have the time, and obviously have other more pressing issues today. Tonight, it's gonna be Eddie's turn to be unhinged, Jeff's sure of it, "Let's worry about one thing at a time. Tonight it's the rain and Eddie's guitar."

"If he'd just have a whole stable like we do, this would never happen."

"Not how he works, and you know it."

Goodie rolls his eyes.

"I don't get it. They're just guitars. I love 'em. But I don't really play favorites," Goodie answers, tossing the paper onto the coffee table. "If the bass I play tonight breaks, well, there are twenty more I can play tomorrow. I'll chuck it in the audience-"

"No, you won't. Steve and Erica will both kill you," Jeff corrects. Been there, done that, had the lawsuit to prove it. Erica got it taken care of, but they don't need any more legal troubles.

"I'm not scared of Steve," Goodie says.

"But Erica?"

"Fuck yes, I'm scared of Erica. I'm not an idiot," Goodie says, and Jeff laughs. It's a good thing she's on their legal team, and not working against them, that's all Jeff knows.

Goodie looks up at him again, "Steve never should have bought Eddie that guitar."

Jeff just nods, even if he doesn't really agree. Jeff helped Steve pick her out. Steve knew which guitar Eddie had been drooling over, but asked Jeff to come in to make sure she'd actually be a good one, if he bought it. So, Jeff played the two they had in stock, and picked the one that seemed to have the best sound, and the best feel, and Eddie has loved her more than they could have ever imagined. It was a great gift.

Steve did good.

Steve's always done good, though. They wouldn't be here without him, Jeff has no doubt.

Even if it being from Steve has made Eddie awfully attached to it, as a result.

That night, Eddie doesn't surprise them, but Hercules is ready to go, and Artie promises to give him an extra coat of oil on the fretboard.

The rain hasn't let up, not for a second, and they've never had a rain show like this one. It's kind of cool, and Jeff's really having fun with it. He jumps up and down, bouncing on the balls of his feet, the puddled water splashing beneath him every time he lands. Goodie's soaked, they all are.

This tour is just firing on all cylinders, and he isn't sure how they've gotten here. Screaming towards the top. All of them. Together. Finally, in sync. Coming off the last couple years, the torture tours they've endured, Jeff's ready for something to go smoothly, for something they can all fucking enjoy for once.

Eddie and Gareth are clean.

Steve's back on the road, his back not totally fixed, but definitely better than it was.

Jeff gets to have fun with his best friend, playing music, selling out stadiums, and making a boatload of goddamn money.

And tonight, they get to play in the rain in front of god knows how many people in this park. Looking out over the grass, the crowd is fucking pumped, as if the rain hasn't ruined the night for them at all. And if the fans don't care, why should they?

This is fun.

Someone, Dustin, Jeff thinks, runs out a hat for Gareth. His hair is plastered down, sopping wet and in his eyes, and Jeff watches as Gareth pushes it all back off his face, putting the cap on backwards. He looks funny that way, not at all like himself, more like they've got Chad Smith sitting in, but at least his hair is out of his fucking eyes. Eddie is fiddling with Hercules, like he's not sure that everything is going okay.

It's more than okay. And when Gareth bangs his sticks down again, counting them in on the next song, off they go again and the crowd screams louder than any rain could ever cover.

Back in the dressing room after the show, Goodie is trying to peel his wet shirt off over his head, and Jeff snags the hem of it, helping him tug it off.

Then he works on his jeans, and it's a whole 'nother job. Everything feels glued on.

"I've never been this soaked in my entire life. I think I could wring out my underwear," Goodie says, and as soon as he steps out of them, he does exactly that over the sink in their shared dressing room.

Jeff laughs, "You can shower first. I think that's the rule. The one with the most soaked skivvies gets to go first."

Goodie smirks, but grabs a towel from the pile on the counter, and slams the bathroom door behind him.

Jeff looks in the mirror, he's lucky. He's the only one of them that doesn't have enough hair to look like a drowned rat. Steve looked awful. All that hair, hanging down around his ears, where it just doesn't belong.

Not that Eddie will care. Steve is perfect in Eddie's eyes, that's an absolute certainty.

Jeff steps out of his wet clothes and tosses them into the hamper that Eddie had provided for them. He'll be glad to get warm and dry. After being hit with the AC while all wet, he's freezing.

Jeff's putting on a dry robe as Gareth walks in, Dustin's hat still on his head, "Eddie and Steve are showering first. Can I hang with you?"

And Jeff nods, kicking out one of the plastic chairs. There is a couch, but there's really no reason for them to be dickheads about it and get the upholstery wet. It's not the venue's fault that there was a torrential downpour.

"That was crazy, huh?" Gareth asks.

"Still sounded good though, Mike had the audio tuned in great for what he had to work with."

"My cymbals were muted," Gareth complains, and they were, they could all hear that, but if that was the only problem they had all night, they made out like bandits.

"Think your drums survived?" Jeff asks, picking up one of the decks of cards that are ever present on their show riders.

He deals Gareth in without even asking.

"Yeah, they should. The techs have 'em," Gareth answers, picking up his hand, rearranging them around in his own hand to his liking. "Eddie's freaking out about Hercules though. Steve's got a job ahead of him tonight."

"He'll be fine," Jeff says.

"Hercules or Eddie?" Gareth asks, smiling as he puts down the cards he intends to play.

"Both, but I was talking about Hercules. Artie won't let anything happen to that guitar."

Gareth nods, and Jeff plays his own cards, as they can hear the shower running in the bathroom beside them.

A while later, Steve pops his head in, freshly dried and styled and looking much more like himself. He looks towards the bathroom, where Goodie's still in the shower, taking his sweet-ass time.

Obviously seeing that the coast is clear, Steve starts talking, "Denny got back to me. Sheryl Crow isn't playing all the festival dates, but we checked our schedule against the ones she is playing, and I made it work to get you two tickets to Pine Knob in August. It's a Sunday."

Jeff smiles, "Awesome. Thank you. Don't tell Goodie. It's a surprise. That means you, Gareth," Jeff says, because he knows Steve won't say a word. Gareth, on the other hand.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Gareth says, laying down his cards, "Eddie out of the shower?"

Steve nods, and Gareth hops up, probably more than ready to be out of his wet clothes, "Gonna go shower before I end up with diaper rash in my crack from sitting in these wet jeans all night."

"Please do that," Steve stresses, looking back at Jeff, shaking his head after Gareth's gone.

"Any luck getting us backstage?" Jeff asks, hopeful.

"Definitely," Steve assures.

Jeff grins. He doesn't know why he's surprised. They are famous in their own right, and Steve can work fucking miracles. Now, Jeff's not especially looking forward to going to H.O.R.D.E Festival for himself, but he does want to see Goodie's face when he comes face-to-face with Sheryl Crow, outside of a red carpet.

He smiles at Steve.

Jeff hears the water cut off in the bathroom, signaling that it'll be his turn soon. Steve leaves, and Jeff gathers up his clean, dry clothes, passing Goodie in the doorway of the bathroom.

This is gonna be a good summer, even if it rains the whole time. Because they finally feel back on track for the first time in a long time.

As Eddie would say, this is their year.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @astrangersummer and follow along with the fun!

Notes: Yes, technically, this was meant to take place during Tuesday's Gone With the Wind, but if you haven't read that, I'm pretty sure it can just stand alone. Also, Goodie's referenced pep talk to Gareth happened in Only a Broken Heart. It was fun to look at this 'verse from Jeff's POV for a bit.

The H.O.R.D.E. Festival line-up from the date mentioned, looks like it would have been: Ziggy Marley & the Melody Makers, Sheryl Crow, Blues Traveler, Black Crowes. I'd have seen that show! Dave Matthews Band played other dates, but it doesn't look like this one.

Fun fact: I really wanted to write it in as Lilith Fair, because that seemed like a fun place to send Jeff and Goodie, but alas, it didn't quite exist yet in 1995.

#a stranger summer #week sixteen #prompt: concert or rain #stranger things #jeff stranger things #unnamed freak stranger things #he's goodie yo #steve harrington #eddie munson #gareth stranger things #stranger things fic #steddie #thisapplepielife: a stranger summer #thisapplepielife: short fic #corroded coffin fic #corroded coffin

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