Frank felt rather than heard the foot stamps throbbing through the floor. The bar takings would be good for once. Good of them to come. Guilt mostly. And curiosity. He was their freak. Eardrums like teabags, more powder in his knees than Keith’s bathroom, his back sounding like Kurt sucking barbed wire.
‘Best roadie ever.’ His reward? A dying pub in Wolverhampton.
He looked in the mirror, coughed, straightening with a drumstick’s click. A few words for his sponsors.
‘Friends, showmen and the rest of you cun…’ Perhaps not, keep it family.
‘Raise up your beers…’ Not that they had the livers for the booze.
Keep it light. ‘Is that old Jagger I see before me?’ If Mick came he’d not look the oldest.
Frank felt a pressure on his hip as his bag filled. ‘To pee or not to pee.’ Like I have the choice.
Our milky eye stared back at Frank, legacy of that punk concert. Stupid prat nearly caused a riot by not going on. ‘But I’m hoarse, I’m hoarse, I can’t sing when I’m hoarse.’
He should’ve stopped then, but it was a drug. The thumping got louder; even Frank could make out they were chanting his name.
Nah, there wasn’t going to be any tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow for Frank. Looping the tie around the shower head he eased his way onto the edge of the bath. He took a deep breath, threw a bundle of tablets down his throat and let his feet slip off the side of the enamel.
As darkness swallowed him, like all those times backstage, just before that first explosion of noise, he grinned. Yeah, they’d all remember Frank, going out as he came in, popping pills and doing one last line.
This piece of flash is in response to the latest microcosms prompt, here
TanGental 
Went out on his own terms, huh? Still true to himself. Unexpected and interesting, Geoff. Nicely done. Hugs.
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Thanks Teagan. Worth trying something different at times.
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I suspect this is why most rock and film stars prefer to die young.
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I wonder if that’s the case or if it is just what happens…. horrid thought if it is!
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Bit of a chilling thought there His Geoffleship…
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I need to break from flippant, surreal, humour just to stretch the writing muscles.
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Yup. You definitely stretched em…
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I was just reading about famous singers this morning. My son likes MJ and I hadn’t realized Mr. Moonwalk died at 50… sheesh.
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There’s some thing I read of so many dying at 29, or something – Buddy Holly Jim Morrison or that’s sort of thing
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Wow.
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As always, your humor shines through in your stories. I couldn’t laugh at the end, though. Suicide is no joking matter.
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No it’s awful but in terms of writing it’s a challenge to try and do both light and dark and see if it works.
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Oh dear – that is not a life I should have wished to live! Poor bloke. You write uncomfortably dark just as well as you write humour ,,,,,,,
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It would be wrong to say I like to mix it up but it is a challenge to explore different styles. For instance romance is a struggle to do well. I should try more.
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Yes…..
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Clever
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I wasn’t sure whether t’was dark or humorous. I guess it was dark humour. Such a sad end to a wasted life. (I think ‘the age’ was 27. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/27_Club)
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Wasn’t expecting that ending but it worked – nice writing!
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Thanks Lucy.
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A hard but clear image there Geoff. Sometimes a good story should come with a seat belt reminder. Well done – yet again.
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Thanks Gary… nicely put
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