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Excess

Date: 9/10/2015, Categories: Lesbian, Author: BradleyStoke, Rating: 4, Source: LushStories

Tabitha wondered how much of what she was saying Sunbeam was actually taking in. Her drug consumption was now so great that her normal state of being was in some kind of narcotic high and it was relatively rare for there to be a great deal of coherence about her. “You remember I spoke to Johnny Logan. Of course you do. Manager of the Racing Turds, Sonic Blue and Mary O’Connor.” “Mary O’Connor. She’s a kind of Irish folkie, ain’t she?” “Yes. Johnny Logan’s a top manager. He only deals with the big acts. He gets the huge multi-million dollar contracts. And he’ll represent anyone if they turn a profit. Johnny Logan’s not small fry like me.” “Yeah. Mary O’Connor. She’s fucking naff. I like Sonic Blue. They’re good. I got their CD. They’re a bit like… Fuck! Who’re they like?” “Don’t worry about them! I’m not going to be your manager any more. It’s going to be Johnny Logan. I signed you over. He’ll make you rich. Or richer. Richer than I ever could!” Sunbeam nodded her head, but Tabitha wasn’t convinced she really understood what Tabitha had said. Especially when her next comment was: “Fuck! I know! They’re a bit like U2. Fucking Bono and that kind of shit. They’re fucking cool!” “Well, you’re going to be working in the same stable as Sonic Blue now, Sunbeam. I’m not going to be managing you. Johnny Logan is.” “Oh!” said Sunbeam. She looked momentarily confused. “So, where are you going?” “I dunno, Sunbeam. I got a good deal from Johnny. More money than I ever thought possible. I ... might, you know, start a record label. Or open a record shop. You know, all the things we used to talk about doing.” “Record label? Sounds like a good idea. That’s what we were gonna do, wasn’t it? So we wouldn’t ever sell out. We were gonna call it Pussy Power Records. That’s why I wrote that song. Remember!” “Yes, I do!” smiled Tabitha, suddenly remembering another Sunbeam who she’d once known so well, one with whom she had sat at the back of the class, giggling and drawing naughty pictures on the back of the hand with a felt-tip pen. A Sunbeam who coughed and coughed when she tried out the cigarette she’d stolen off her father, and swore she’d never smoke again. Not the Sunbeam in front of her, who was carefully filling a syringe with smack and who had tied a pair of knickers around her upper arm as a makeshift tourniquet. “‘ Pussy Power! I’ve got a cunt. We’ve all got cunts. We’ve all got Pussy Power! ’” Sunbeam sang. And then she called out to Anita. “Hey! Keep a line of that stuff for me.” “After or before you mainline?” “Shit! Who fucking knows or cares!” Tabitha smiled. She turned around and left the changing room, quite happy not to have to find yet another excuse not to accompany Sunbeam to the party at the Antwerp Hotel and looking forward with more anticipation than she’d ever imagined toward her own room in the other hotel where Nikki was waiting for her. And as every step took her further away from the changing room where Sunbeam was busily ingesting drugs and ...