Chapter Text
Whiskey A Go Go
West Hollywood, California
October 23, 1981
It was unusually cold for LA in October as the band Heart prepared to take the stage in West Hollywood’s infamous Whiskey A Go Go. It was a huge show for huge band so the place was busting at the seams. Groupies and hopefuls spilled out from the sidewalk and right onto the street, crowding the red velvet ropes that were strung there and managed by the bouncers. Inside the club it was SRO and people were shoulder to shoulder, already dancing to the canned music playing pre-show.
Billy Dunne had long since removed himself from this kind of a scene, but this night was a special occasion: his younger brother, Graham, was about to marry Jeanne Sims and Billy was his best man. Which meant that, even as a recovering alcoholic, he was going to throw him a helluva bachelor party. A large horseshoe shaped booth had been roped off just to the left of the stage and reserved. Adding to the fury of the crowd that night, the sign on the table read “Reserved for Graham Dunne and members of The Six.” Every groupie in the place tried to stake out real estate as close to the booth as possible. Billy had made dinner reservations that meant they’d be arriving just at ten as the set started, hoping to avoid too much of the groupie scene.
Billy and Graham, along with Warren Rhodes, Pete and Eddie Loving, Rod Reyes and Artie Snyder arrived through the back door just as the opening song, City’s Burning, started. They did not go unnoticed and had to be escorted through the throngs of people to make it to the booth. Rod stopped to order a round for everyone but Billy, and then the seven of them slipped into their private booth to watch the show. A bouncer had stationed himself by their booth, even though Warren made himself busy sitting up on the back of the booth and signing bras and stomachs and cocktail napkins most of the night.
Graham slammed his third or fourth shot and then turned to Billy, shouting to be heard.
“You’re sure you’re ok? I don’t need to get drunk, man. We can just listen to music.”
Billy smiled and elbowed him.
“You’re about to sign your life away, little brother. You DO need to get drunk. I promise. And I’m fine. Promise.”
Graham patted Billy’s lap.
“I love you. You know that??” Billy just laughed, loud and hearty.
“You’re drunk. I’ll get you another.”
Billy was on the edge of the booth and he slipped out. Rod, manager of The Six and lifelong friend of the brothers, gave him a look asking if he was ok.
“I’m fine. I’m gonna get some air and grab Graham another drink. I’ll be right back.”
Billy slipped through the crowd and out the back door. The band was so loud the music carried well into the alley. It was a private exit so while there were people, they weren’t the people that would bother Billy Dunne. He walked along the brick back of the building, tapping the drum line out on his thighs as he got some fresh air. Heart started the song Crazy On You, and being that it was one of his favorites, Billy decided to head back inside. He was almost back past the bouncer when he heard someone in the alley singing along as the vocals picked up.
“If we still have time, we might still get by, Every time I think about it, I wanna cry”
The voice floated down the alley and stopped Billy in his tracks. He turned in the direction it was coming from and saw her. Leaning against the wall, long legs and a flowy white top that hung effortlessly from her, matching the cascade of her auburn hair that peeked out from under a wide brimmed hat.
And that voice.
It was Daisy Jones.
It was unmistakably Daisy Jones.
Billy froze for a second watching her silhouette. She swayed gently to the tune and continued to sing to herself,
“With bombs and the Devil and the kids keep coming, No way to breathe easy, no time to be young”
Billy looked at the door and entertained just going back inside like he hadn’t seen her. Or heard her. But he hadn’t seen Daisy Jones since she stepped foot offstage in Chicago. She vanished. Not so much as a phone call or a letter. At the very least he would say hello. He figured enough time had passed that whatever ills she carried towards him would at least tolerate a hello. He slowly padded towards her as she stood off to the side unnoticed by anyone but him.
“Daisy Jones...” His voice had the feel of a whisper...slow and intense...even if it was loud enough to be heard over the bass and drums that vibrated through them both. She lifted her eyes from under her hat, still singing to herself,
“But I tell myself that I was doing all right, There's nothing left to do at night.....” she paused as she took him in, one leg against the brick wall across the alley from him, tapping along with the rhythm section.
“Billy Dunne....” She felt her cheeks flush and tucked her hands into her jeans.
“Don’t forget a voice like that.” He smiled at her as she adjusted her posture. She returned it.
“Don’t forget a lot of things, I suppose.”
“You look well...” Billy said, but the band had kicked into the chorus and she couldn’t hear him.
“What??” She shouted, and he repeated it. She still couldn’t hear him. She held her hand to her ear and shrugged. He crossed the alley and leaned into her.
“I said you look well....” he whispered to her. His lips brushed her earlobe unintentionally and, without realizing they weren’t alone in it, they both felt a charge. He pulled back from her and she smiled.
“You, too.”
“I wouldn’t have thought I’d see you here.” She tried to make small talk, unable to stop herself from staring at him. And he couldn’t pull his eyes from her. It was as if he didn’t realize until the moment he saw her again just how much he had missed looking at her.
“You normally wouldn’t. It’s Graham’s bachelor party. I need to go get him a drink. Can I buy you one?” The offer felt funny and natural at the same time. Daisy smiled and leaned into him.
“I’m sober, Billy. 829 days.” She leaned back only to see his reaction to her news. He smiled broadly at her, lighting up a dimple on his cheek that made her blush.
“Wow...I...I didn’t know. I’m proud of you, Daisy. So proud of you.” Billy had a hard time finding the right words and she tucked her hair nervously behind her ear.
“Don’t be proud of me. You’re not my father. Be happy for me.” She bit her lip and leaned into him.
“I’m happy for you, Daisy. I’m really happy for you.” They stood locked in a glance for what felt much longer than it probably was. Billy finally realized he needed to get his brother that drink.
“Jesus Christ here you are!! Man, the Wilson sisters want The Dunne Brothers on stage....come on!!” Warren was shouting at him from the door, too drunk and oblivious to Daisy. Billy just laughed.
“Graham will never go for that.” Billy spoke as he heard someone tuning a guitar and the crowd screaming.
“His drunk ass is already on stage. Let’s go!! You only get one bachelor party!!” Warren shouted and then slipped back into the club. Billy ran his hand through his hair as Daisy chuckled.
“Same old Warren. Sounds like you should go. Give my love to everyone would you?” Daisy let a sadness creep into her voice that she didn’t intend. Billy turned to her.
“Will you stick around?” He was hopeful that maybe they would have some more time, quieter time, to catch up.
“I was actually on my way out....”
“Oh, right. Well....”
“It was good to see you Billy. Take care of yourself. Ok?”
She smiled sweetly.
“Daisy...” He called to her. She held up a peace sign, and made her way away from the club. Billy watched her walk down the alley and then slipped back into The Whiskey. She tucked her hands into her pockets and walked until she had turned the corner. She was wading through the crowd on the street as she heard the crowd cheering and Anne Wilson announcing that Billy Dunne was going to join her on stage. She couldn’t leave.
Billy was strapping on a guitar as Graham egged him on. Graham started to play rhythm guitar as Billy joined in and the band started to play their version of Aaron Neville’s Tell It Like It Is. Billy and Anne Wilson turned it into an impromptu duet and the crowd went crazy. As they reached the chorus, singing into their own mics, Billy scanned the thriving crowd and spotted that wide brimmed hat and auburn hair at the back of the club flanked by two bouncers. Her tiny frame swaying to the music. He locked his eyes on her eyes on his as he sang:
“Tell it like it is, Don't be ashamed to let your conscience be your guide, But I know deep down inside of me, I believe you love me, forget your foolish pride”
She couldn’t look away but she could hardly stand not to. Billy watched her as they continued the song. As Graham took a guitar solo, Billy noticed her moving towards the door. He racked his guitar and jumped from the stage, disappearing into the crowd and moving like a salmon upstream trying to find her. He spotted her hat moving out the door and he followed it into the street. He pushed and shoved as he fought to not lose sight of her. He finally got close enough to grab her arm and spin her.
It wasn’t Daisy.
The short blonde woman he had spun looked happy to have gained his attention and then immediately dejected when she realized it was misplaced.
“Sorry....I thought you were someone else.” He shrugged it off and headed back down the sidewalk towards the front entrance, cursing himself for not keeping her in the alley when he had the chance. He had so much to say to her. So many things to ask.
829 days. He heard the number over and over in his head. 829 days. He knew exactly how long ago 829 days was.
The Chicago show. Daisy has gotten clean the day after the Chicago show. And he hadn’t seen her since. He waded back into the club as Heart was finishing their set. The plan was to crash in the penthouse suite at the Beverly Wiltshire but all he could think about was finding Daisy Jones. He told himself to put it out of his mind. He rejoined the guys at the table for a last round and then slipped out the back door and headed by limo to the hotel.
“Hey...what’s eating you?” Graham was practically laying on Billy as he asked. Billy chuckled at his state.
“Nothing. Just not as young as I used to be. I’m wiped.”
“Jesus Christ, your 34 not 84. This is why I’m never getting married.” Eddie yelled at him from the back of the limo and threw ice at him.
“You can go to bed when we get to the hotel. Really. I know this is a lot. I’m good.”
Graham was giddy and wasted and slurring his speech.
“We can take it from here.” Rod winked at him, mistaking his absent mindedness as a struggle to stay sober. Billy just nodded.
When they got to the hotel, Rod checked everyone into two rooms as Billy called Camila from a pay phone.
“Hey, Mrs. Dunne...” he smiled as she answered, half asleep, “I’m sorry to wake you but I promised I’d call. Wanted to let you know I’m ok.”
“Mmmmmmm....hi....I’m glad baby. Is Graham having fun?” Camila’s drowsy voice made Billy weak and he looked over at Graham, fully supported by Artie and still nursing a beer.
“He will be feeling it tomorrow.” Billy whispered.
“You’re sure you’re ok....it’s ok to not be ok.” Camila reassured him, knowing it was a lot for his recovery.
“I’m gonna head to bed. I’m sure I’m ok. I love you. Kiss the girls. I’ll call them in the morning.”
“Goodnight, Billy. I love you.”
She had hung up before he could say it back. Billy watched the guys load into the elevator and shut the door. He wandered over to the check in desk and tried to look busy.
“Can I help you sir?” The concierge asked and Billy thought twice.
“Yeah....just wondering if...is there a Lola LaCava staying here by chance?”
The concierge shuffled some papers and then informed him that...no. There was not.
Billy nodded gratefully and then made his way to the elevator. He inhaled as he pressed the button.
829 days.
Daisy has been sober for 829 days.
He hadn’t seen her face in 829 days. Hadn’t felt that heat in 829 days.
And now he felt like one of them was about to have a relapse.
And he was pretty sure it would be him.