"I'm not even playing my fucking guitar through most of that song," Matt complained. "What am I supposed to do? Just stand there with my cock in my hand while you're finger picking your way through the goddamn verses?"
"It doesn't seem to bother you that Nerdly is sitting there with his cock in his hand through most of Faces At Dawn, does it? Do I need to remind you that there is less than forty seconds of piano in the whole fucking song?"
"Nerdly's behind a piano for Faces," Matt would counter. "Nobody's gonna notice that he ain't doing anything, but they'll sure as shit notice that I'm standing there looking like a fucking piece of furniture while you're crooning out you mellow crap to the audience!"
And on and on that one went as well. Jake stuck to his ground and Matt eventually agreed to put the song in where Jake wanted it. He absolutely balked, however, at Nerdly's suggestion that they spotlight Jake and Charlie during the verses of I See You and dim down the lights on the rest of the band.
"We keep the fucking lights up on everyone at all times," Matt said. "We ain't choregraphing our lighting. It ain't what we're about."
And again, now that he had his way, Jake agreed with Matt on this issue and Nerdly was overruled, against his very stern objections. They then moved onto the next argument, which had to do with which of their classic tunes they weren't going to play since they were time restricted to a ninety-minute show and there wasn't room to play seven songs from the new album and all of the previous live classics from the first four studio albums and the three original songs from In Action. The basis of this argument fell upon predictable lines. Jake wanted to not play two of Matt's songs and Matt wanted to not play two of Jake's. The obvious solution — that they each pick one of their own not to play, thus making things even — did not occur to either of them for more than two hours and one near-physical confrontation.
It was Saturday, December 30, before they were able to finalize an actual play list for the tour and start to think about actually plugging in their instruments and doing some rehearsals. Fortunately, except for Nerdly, they all agreed to maintain a minimal amount of choreography, visual effects, and stage design. Except for the new wireless microphones that Nerdly had finally gotten Crow to get National Records to help finance, there was little that was different from the previous tours. Intemperance was all about simplicity in their live performances. They had a basic stage, basic lighting gear, no fancy lasers or pyrotechnics or video screens or costumes. They would take the stage, play their set, and then do two encores. Jake and Matt's philosophy on this remained united and unchanged. People came to see Intemperance for the music and for the energy the band was known for, not for the special effects.
New Year's Eve fell on a Sunday, the one day of the week the band traditionally took off no matter what. They made no exception for this particular Sunday. All of them had plans for the ultimate in party nights and none of their plans included each other. Coop was throwing a party at his house. Nerdly and Sharon were spending the night on a luxury yacht in San Diego Harbor where they would watch the fireworks show planned to bring in the new decade. Matt planned to hit the clubs with Kim and engage in a drinking and drug fueled night of sexual bliss with whatever women they happened to pick up. Charlie did not share his plans with the rest of them, although he assured them that he had some.
Jake, very much against his better judgement, attended a formal New Year's Eve party at the Malibu mansion that belonged to Mindy Snow and her husband, film director Scott Adams Winslow. In the three weeks since she'd showed up unexpectedly and unannounced at his front door, Jake had gotten together with Mindy four times, three at her generally unused mountain house outside LA, and once at the Hollywood Hilton Hotel where he'd paid two thousand dollars for a suite they only used for three hours. His guilt at carrying on a sexual affair with a married woman was easily overridden by the black desire he felt for Mindy and her body and by the sheer thrill of engaging in a forbidden affair. She was like a powerful drug he couldn't seem to stay away from. He experienced intense pleasure when indulging in her charms, and stark, naked craving when he had to do without her. So far, however, all of their rendezvous had been when Scott Adams Winslow — Scotty, as Mindy referred to him — was away. Now, on New Year's Eve, Mindy wanted Jake to be present in the man's house with him, to be a guest at his party.
"How are you going to explain this to him?" Jake asked her when she first brought it up. "The man knows we used to be involved with each other, doesn't he?"
"Of course he does," she said. "I told him you were crappy in bed."
"You told him what?" Jake asked.
"That you were a horrible lover," she said. "That I was just using you to enhance my reputation. A little white lie on my part." She giggled. "I certainly wouldn't want him knowing that you're the best there is, right?"
"Well... I suppose," Jake said, still stinging from the knowledge that someone was walking around thinking he was a crappy lay.
"Anyway, I told him we ran into each other in Fiji, and..."
"You told him that?" Jake asked, appalled.
She rolled her eyes at him. "I didn't tell him everything about Fiji," she said. "I just told him that we ran into each other and had dinner. He thinks I'm taking pity on you by inviting you to our party. You don't have a girlfriend or a date, do you?"
"No, but..."
"Don't worry," she said. "Everything is cool. You'll have a great time."
And so he went. He put on one of his custom-tailored tuxedos and had a limo drop him off at the Winslow mansion at 8:30 that night. He did not have a great time — not initially anyway. The experience reminded him of everything he hated about Hollywood parties. There were actors, actresses, producers, directors, and a multitude of Hollywood insiders there, all dressed in formal clothes, all sipping expensive champagne or wine and snorting cocaine from jeweled mirrors provided by the host. Almost everyone he met was a complete and total phony. He was assaulted with condescension from nearly every person he talked to, particularly from Scott Adams Winslow (who insisted upon being called by all three names when addressed by anyone but Mindy, who was allowed to call him Scotty).
Winslow — an impeccably groomed man in his mid-forties — started off the evening by apologizing for Mindy's "using him" all those years ago.
"She told me how she took advantage of your naiveté and led you to believe she actually enjoyed being in a sexual relationship with you," he told Jake.
"Yes," Jake said. "She's quite the actress, isn't she?"
"One of the best in the world," Winslow agreed. "In any case, her behavior was reprehensible, and, although I didn't know her back then, I can assure you that she's repentant for her misuse of your tender emotions and, as I'm sure you found out when you encountered her in Fiji, is a different person these days."
"Oh yes," Jake said, hiding a smile. "I got to know the real Mindy very well back in Fiji."
"I'm glad to hear that," Winslow told him, giving him a clap on the back. "And I'm sure your earlier experiences with her probably helped you wise up a bit to the ways of the conniving woman, didn't they?"
"Indeed they did," Jake said.
"And I'm sure you've gotten better at... you know... keeping a woman satisfied since then?"
Jake clapped him on the back. "You'd be astonished to know what I can do these days," he told him. "Now then, where can I get a drink around this place?"
He got drunk early and the scathing condescension didn't bother him as much. He even let Mindy and Winslow talk him into an impromptu performance with a Fender twelve-string that Winslow owned, but did not know how to play. After spending fifteen minutes tuning the guitar the best he could with the old strings, and even though it was technically in violation of his contract, he spent thirty-five minutes strumming and singing a variety of songs — a few Intemperance songs, a few of his original, unrecorded songs, but mostly old classics — for the entertainment of the guests. They applauded politely when he was done and a few of them actually tried to put hundred dollar bills in his pocket as if he were a common street performer.