...
I've got a freakin' long story on the way and it might not be done for a while. Since I'm an avid 'whore Mick Jagger out to anyone', I've something with him. I've wrote up a James Fox/Mick Jagger story a while ago. It's dated January 28, so it might be a bit. It's about 12 pages long, on college ruled paper.
So it could be a while until I have that thing typed up as I am trying to do right now. I am making some modifications on it. I can put up what I have typed. Sort of like a preview. This is about 5 pages worth.
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James leaned back in his chair, a bottle loosely held in his hands. The water that the bottle contained was warm. It had been a long day at the set and it only seemed to drag itself on slowly. Usually it was very productive and booming with excited and artsy energy. Today, it wasn't the usual up lifting energy.
He drug his hand across his moister ridden face. It was unusually hot today on the set. It was a large leap fro the usually cold tinged set. The heat seemed hazy and was rising and soaking into the room. It was that uncomfortable heat that made surfaces unpleasantly stick your skin. Like it pinched your back every time your body even twitched a muscle.
James had already resorted to taking off his jacket, then shirt. He cast both into now deserted piles of sweat soaked fabric. James felt the beads of salty water sliding down his back. He arched uncomfortably in his chair, feeling his back slick with water.
His light-ish blue eyes had wondered back to where they were originally. The large, over piled bed could have possibly been out-land-ish. The lavish and large drapes and covers hung thickly over the over piled bed. James could have honestly done without them. They seemed a bit too much. The floor was cluttered, as if it were attracted to the bed like a crowd.
There was a figure on the bed, partially smothered by the over stuffed covers. The figure moved, lifting up on thin like arms. They rubbed their eyes lazily over their eyes. It was one of James' co-stars and newest friend, Mick Jagger.
They'd been hanging out around each other on and off. for the past few months. James found that the pop stars' company was quite enjoyably. He began to be influenced around him, growing out his hair and associating with the resident hippie scene that was going on. But he had to get rid of his long, fashionable hair for the movie.
Mick had probably fallen asleep, due to the sluggish day. His long and now darker hair - dyed darker for the movie - fell across his shoulders, spilling over them. He face was a bit obscured by his hair on his face. He then put a hand up to his forehead, wiping excess moisture from it.
James still eyed him. He had been studying Mick for a while during his free time. Something about Mick intrigued him. For whatever reason, it attracted him. Some type of unexplained quality in Mick kept James hovering around un his orbit.
James unwound himself from his chair. A hand flew to his forehead, wiping away excess sweat and to brush away moisture coated bangs. Standing on firm legs, James strode over to the large bed and sat down.
“Whuttime… issut? Mick grumbled out with a sleepy, slurred voice.
Blinking in confusion, James darted his eyes Mick’s figure. Realization flowed into James’ mind and he looked down to his wrist watch.
“Half past noon,” he stated.
A grumbled noise of acknowledgment came from Mick’s throat. He sighed and pressed a hand to his forehead.
“God,” Mick said, a frown twisting onto his lips. “It’s so ******** hot. It’s usually freezing that my nipples could stick out a meter.”
His ivory features curled at the mental image. Mick just sighed and fell back onto the hazy bed, hair swooshing around his ears. James already lit up a cigarette to take his mind off of the blistering heat that had accumulated over time. He glanced back at Mick.
“It could be a lot worse y’know. Besides,” James blew out a huff. “it could be a lot worse.”
Mick gazed at James, his back facing him. He huffed and leaned upon jutting elbows. Mick really wanted to air out. But since it was summer it wouldn’t be much good use to travel outside. He quickly shed the top of his black body stocking. It was already clinging to his skin with sweat acting like glue.
James glanced at Mick. He saw how his ribs came beneath the surface of that milky white skin. ‘Mick could have been a bit under-weight,’ James mused. He actually liked those hints of bone perturbing. He watched a bit longer until Mick finally looked up.
This was actually confusing to James. He was supposed to be an apparent opposite to Mick. His character and Mick’s character were supposed to be opposed to each other. Somehow, their characters would wind up together. Combining or something. In this movie, Chas was supposed to be, in a way, obsessed and intimidated by this Turner, Mick’s character. Now James wasn’t sure if the movie was spilling into reality because now James was facing a problem.
It actually felt like Mick was growing on him. Like in the movie. But now it was something that was morphing into reality.
“How could it get any worse?” Mick looked at James expectantly as he just shrugged his shoulders.
Visibly frustrated, Mick rolled a bit on the bed. James flicked the burnt out cigarette on the ground, stubbing it out. The bed was lit from the heat of the from the heat that the large covers had trapped on it’s own.
The air felt unpleasant to their skin. James could feel the air sticking unpleasantly to his skin. It was hot, humid like, and felt stale. It felt like his lungs would overheat from the contact of it. Sweat rolled down his back.
Mick looked over towards the stand off at the side of the bed. Fingers grasping the handle, he pulled and opened it. Blue eyes alighted when seeing a baggie. Grasping at it, Mick pulled it back to himself. James had turned his head in Mick’s direction and watched him. Feeling James’ attention on him, Mick grinned to himself and slowly rolled it.
“Hey James,” he began. “You want a toke?”
James gave him a look. “I don’t know Mick. I don’t usually-”
“Oh come on James! You don’t always have to play the uptight man. Just let go once in a while. It won’t hurt.” Mick pressed on James.
He still gazed back and forth between Mick and the joint that Jagger held in his hands. Anita had given him some acid earlier and he wasn’t really sure of what to make of it. Just that it was a freaky trip and the colors were still fresh in his mind. But with Mick pressing on about it, he thought it couldn’t do harm. Besides, he thought, it’s just a plant. Couldn’t hurt that much, could it?
Shrugging his shoulders, James leaned towards Mick as Mick lit up the herb. He passed it to James. The smell curled into the air and penetrated everything. It baked and spread out.
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This will take a bit.
Listening to "Let It Bleed" by The Rolling Stones".
