Chapter Text
A parking lot wasn’t the usual place for a funeral.
December 5th, 1977. Los Angeles, California. Rain showers down from gloomy ink-clouds. The water runs off headlights, multicoloured cars in rows.
Then the band: Daisy, Billy, Karen, Warren. Or most of them, anyway. They’re stood hugging whatever scraps they’re wearing around their bodies. Liquid cascades their cheeks. It’s cold, dark and wet.
Billy takes out a cigarette. He shields it with his hand as he attempts to light it. Flick, flick. The flame won’t budge. As soon as it weakly burns he inhales, forcing the tobacco down his throat. Right away, the damp air begins to extinguish it. Dumb fuckin’ thing.
“Guess it’s time to say goodbye.” Graham raps his knuckles. “I don’t know if I can.”
Daisy’s wearing a fur coat. Her misery towards being out here peeks over the collar. She looks like some kind of harsh bird. A raven, in mourning.
Karen steps forward to rest her head against her boyfriend’s shoulder. He runs his hand over her damp long-sleeve. A sombre silence lulls around the lot.
“Jesus Christ.” Billy scoffs, working on his cigarette again. “It’s only a van.”
Warren sighs nostalgically, wiping the side of the van with his palm. “It’s memories. Our first van! I banged so many chicks inside this thing.”
“It was fun.” Daisy nods, standing back. “But we’re finally moving onto a real home.”
Billy grunts, rejoicing. “Thank god. No more climbing over each other.”
His brother Graham tosses the keys and catches them. A mischievous glint meets his eyes. Then, he opens the door. “One last spin? What do we say.”
The rest of them hop in without a moment’s notice. Apart from the redhead, who skips around the back. “Billy?”
He’s got one foot on the step as he raises his brow. Somehow, the way she says his name is untrustworthy. “Yeah?”
She beckons. “Help me up! I wanna stand on the back.”
Billy sighs, hopping back and shutting the door. He hugs his chest and arrives at her disposal. She’s attempting to pull herself up onto the back ladder. It’s pretty amusing to watch her struggle. “Okay, then. C’mere.”
Daisy stops scuffing her feet to let him. He grabs her waist and lifts her until her shoes catch. She falls forward, away from him. “Better. Thanks!”
Billy stares at his hands and gags. “Your coat got me soaked.” He attempts to rub them dry on his jeans, which are also water-logged. “Ugh…”
The window winds down. Graham sticks his head out. “Will you two hurry?”
“Hang on, Graham. Billy and me are gonna ride out here.” Daisy calls back, grinning with excitement.
“Honey—“ Billy closed his eyes. He hadn’t agreed to this, but he knew there was no getting out of it. “Mmm, okay.” He replies flatly, pulling himself up to perch beside her.
“I need you here incase I slip.” Daisy explains, looking at him.
He bit his cheek, thinking. “And what if I slip?”
She adjusts herself, grabbing hold of the metal poles. “Then that’s your problem.”
“Yeah. Always is.” The engine spluttered beneath them. Billy braced himself for what was about to happen. He felt a childish joy surge in his veins, making him chuckle.
Thrumming vibrations cause both of them to shake whilst they hold on. The wheels screech, splashing back the rain. As the van begins to move they’re suddenly jolted forwards.
After a firm punch to the gut— Billy scrambles for the ladder, his other arm yanking Daisy’s coat. It becomes apparent very quickly that this was a horrible idea.
“Oh fuck..” He groans, as the acceleration begins to pull him back. They’re fully joyriding now. “Daisy?”
She’s latched onto the back, her mouth open with adrenaline. Her red hair streams behind her, kicking like flames in the wind. The woman calls out and hollers into the air.
Billy breaks his staring when a broken stop post almost takes out his head. Before it can collide, he launches himself into Daisy. “Jesus fu—” He eases up. “Sorry!”
It’s hard to hear him over the wailing wind. Plus, it’s only made worse by the speed of the van. Neon signs blur into streaks, turning into a stave. The city rushed past faster than it was comprehended.
“Faster!” Daisy yells out, still crushed by his grip. Her voice is giddy, and Graham must’ve heard her cause the speed picks up.
They swerve around a corner whilst the wheels scream. Billy’s hand nearly slips off the wet metal. “Are you insane?!” he shouts over the noise.
Daisy turns her head from the buildings to look up at him. Her eyes sparkle. “Fun, right?!”
The van narrowly avoids a pothole, sending the couple flying into each other. Billy grabs her once he finds his hands again, as she grips the ladder. His head rushes technicolour— then he laughs. “Holy shit.”
Time began to stutter in its overbearingly cliché way. They went so fast that it turned slow. Through the intersection, everything was dark. Only the streetlights lit Daisy’s features. Her wide eyes, insistent grin. Windy rain launches everything at her but she’s still a firework.
Billy’s wet-dog curls stick to his nose. “You’re beautiful.” He calls, his fists locked and aching from the force.
Daisy calls back, louder. “I’m what?!”
Billy takes a deep breath. He strains his voice as he shouts. “Beautiful!”
“Oh!” She yells a reply. “Thanks! You too!” They hit another bump and jolt again. “Do you trust Graham’s driving?”
“No!” Billy says, spitting the rain from his mouth. His knuckles are bright pink. “We’re gonna die, and it’s fucking freezing!”
Daisy laughs. It’s a sound that cuts through the chaos. “What a way to go!” She reaches for and grips his numbed hand, squeezing it tight. Hers isn’t any warmer.
He can’t not smile. The surroundings engulf him. On a road as busy as this, they slow to fight the traffic. Posters on the various bars lining the strip come into focus. A few of them have the band’s name printed in large capitals.
‘DAISY DUNNE & THE SIX
THIS FRIDAY,
DOORS OPEN AT 8PM’
Regret Me had been a hit. An even bigger one, the second time around. It almost made up for Billy’s hesitancy to bring back Honeycomb. They weren’t anywhere grand without a proper album (a good one, not SevenEightNine.) But it was enough that Teddy stopped asking what the hell they were doing and started listening.
A bunch of regular gigs on the strip here and there, along with the money they’d made from their temp jobs— it was enough to save up money for their own home. That’s where they’d be moving in tomorrow, after trading in the van.
Billy switched between playing the bass and guitar where each part was needed most. It was a confusing and less than appropriate setup but— they were still holding on for Eddie, like they’d promised.
He was getting fed up of waiting. Though, he tried not to bring it up. The truth was they’d had a shaky relationship over Daisy’s sobriety. It was going okay, but there had been countless fights over whose fault it was and who wasn’t looking out for her. The wounds weren’t fully healed yet.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Graham thrusts a large box onto Billy’s forearms. Then, another one. His vision is entirely covered by cardboard. “I can’t see a damn thing.”
“Quit complaining, dude.” The younger brother sighs, hauling his own load. “If we only take one box every time it’ll cost the whole day.”
Billy strains his neck to look from the side, and stumbles past the rocks that line the driveway. “Fine with me. It’s my day off.”
Graham coughs out a laugh. “We gotta get ready for the party later too.” One of his boxes starts to slip, but he narrowly saves it.
“Party?” Billy grumbles, reaching the steps. “A fucking party on our first day?”
Graham catches up behind him. “Yeah, what?”
“You don’t use your head sometimes.” Billy says. He squeezes through the door with his cargo. “Where are these going?”
“Kitchen.” Graham replies.
His arms are starting to complain as he carries the boxes over to the kitchen. When he lowers them, he notices Daisy standing there. Billy groans, getting to his feet. “We won’t be done for a while.”
She comes over, then bends down to look in one of the boxes. “I know.” she hums. A small cup gets yanked out. Daisy walks to the sink, so she can fill it. “I chose our bedroom.”
“Already?” Billy asks.
“Yeah.” She chirps. “It’s not the biggest one— but it’s got the best view. Leads right out onto the balcony.” As she turns the faucet, it starts making a hollow glugging noise. Dry. “Agh. No water.”
“It might get turned on later.” Billy tries. In the distance, he can hear his brother yelling for him. “We need to get some bottles for now. Do you mind? I still gotta haul the boxes.”
Daisy leaves the cup in the sink. She turns around and steps closer, bringing her hand to his cheek. “Sure. I can go.”
He smiles warmly, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “Thank you.” he whispers against her.
“I wanted to get some air anyway. But sure, call me a lifesaver.” She challenges, with a smirk. “You’d be nowhere without me.”
“I’m not admitting it.” Billy grunts, pulling back. “Go on, I’ll see you later.”
“Mm…” Daisy stays close to him with that classic glint in her eye. It’s been a while now— but he still fails to figure her out.
He politely pushes her off, shoving the boxes aside with his shoe. They’re filled with all sorts of crap. A plastic pirate sword sticks out from one of them. A magic 8-ball. Some records. Couple of porn mags.
“Those aren’t mine.” He defends, when he senses Daisy looking.
She laughs and finally starts to leave. The bottom of her cardigan wipes the floor tiles. “No, go ahead. If you wanna look at boobs whilst I’m gone, I won’t judge.”
“Later.” Billy says.
Daisy presses. “You’ll look at them later?”
“No.” He groans. “I mean, see you later.”
She lets out a long whistle, then slips out the kitchen.
He returns to his task. The magazines end up in his hands, but only to move them. Even glancing at the bikini model makes him feel in trouble. “Warren!” Billy calls out. “Come get your sticky pages before I burn ‘em!”
The wailing sound of the drummer echoes from somewhere deeper in the house. "They’re collectibles, man! Don’t mess with them!"
“Collectibles, my ass.” Billy shakes his head, tossing the magazines onto the counter.
Even with one man down, they manage to unpack whatever they can. Every cardboard cube squashed adds height to their piling trashcans. Dizzy, Daisy’s cat, circles around them whilst they work. The guys kept getting distracted when they’d find something new to play with, but then Karen would put it to rest. The place slowly begins to look like theirs. Tiny glimpses of all of them, scattered around the walls and surfaces.
There’s a short time to prepare for the housewarming. Graham sits on his brother’s shoulders so he can hang lights up in the garden. Warren throws a few chairs on the grass. He also ends up lounging on one and passes out.
After a Daisy-appropriate amount of time, she eventually comes back. The door is kicked open. Bags hang from her shoulders, carrying a crate of beer cans. She’s staggering under the hefty weight.
Billy steps over to take the stuff. “I said water, didn’t I?” He grumbles, gritting his teeth.
She drops the drinks on the table. “There’s some there. I didn’t get this for us— it’s a party, Billy.”
“Sure.” He complains, taking out more alcohol from the bags. She’s living vicariously. All of her favourite poisons collect in a row, some of his too. “Did you get anything else?”
Daisy rummages in her pocket, pulling out a red lollipop. She tugs off the wrapper and pops it into Billy’s mouth. “Here. Relax.”
He furrows his brow. Of course she’d try to shut him up with candy. He wasn’t gonna let that happen, until he found himself sucking on it. Strawberry flavour.
Billy nods, pointing at his cheek. “It’s mm— good.”
She takes out another for herself. Tosses two over to Karen, who’s on Graham’s lap. Warren snores. The last one’s laid on the table.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
As the sun sets, it exchanges its glow for the people. Familiar faces from around the strip packed the house full. Laughing, smoking, yelling. When the neighbours caught the noise they crashed too.
Billy put himself in charge of the music, cause he didn’t really wanna be there. Daisy had convinced him— dressing him up in all black with a leather jacket. She was off socialising, tossing around a frisbee with Warren and a few girls.
When the record came to a stop, he slipped the next one from a sleeve. As he went to lift the needle it suddenly jammed. He cursed, tugging at it. Unmoving, stiff as nails.
“That’s not gonna fix it.”
The voice came behind him. Recognisable. Billy turned in surprise. “Camila?” He said, warming. “What are you doing here?”
She beamed, shrugging. “Thought I’d stop by and say hi. Graham called up. Eddie’s stuck at home with a cough, but he wouldn’t let me skip.”
Everything was weirdly quiet now. Aside from the wasted conversations around them. Most of them were so out of it they couldn’t tell the music stopped.
Billy sighed. “Well— if I can’t get this fuckin’ music to work, it won’t be much to miss out on.”
“Let me try.” Camila offered, stepping to take a closer look. She began to tamper with the record player. Her touch was gentler, and the needle eased up a little more, but not enough.
He pushes a hand through his hair. “Shit. Give up, girl. It’s busted.”
She drops her arms in defeat and leaned back on the shelf, looking up at him. For a few seconds she doesn’t say anything.
Billy takes a deep breath. He breaks the eye contact to take a swig from his soda can.
“I hear you guys are doing a shoot on Tuesday.” Camila says. “For an album?”
He hums, nodding. “Mmhm.” The can clinks down next to the record player. “Yeah. We released a single, Regret Me—“
“I know.” she chirps. “I heard it on the radio.”
“Really?” he grins.
Camila smiles. “We were driving to my doctor’s appointment and it came on. I couldn’t believe it.”
“Wow.” Billy pretends it’s an insult. “No, uh, it’s going great. We’ve got a few more songs in the bag now, so we’re almost ready.”
She tucks a piece of hair that falls in her eyes. “Do you mind if I tag along to the photoshoot? It would be cool to see someone else in action.”
He smiles. “Yeah, of course!”
It’s nice to see her passionate about something, rather than dealing with his altercations. The face she pulled when he’d beat up Eddie was something he’d never forget.
Daisy shoves her way over to them. She looks hurriedly at the records. “Where’s the music?”
Billy gestures to the broken player. “Can’t play a thing. Needle’s jammed.”
“Fuck.” She groans, poking at it.
Camila crosses her arms. “Why don’t you two… play something?” she suggests.
Daisy perks up. “Hm.” She looks at her husband with fire in her eyes. “Wanna jam, honey?”
“Mmm…” Billy lets out a strained yawn. “I dunno, Dais, I’m fucking beat.”
Camila scoffs. “Oh come on. One song! You can do that.”
The two women have teamed up on him. He’s literally backed up against the shelf with nowhere to run. Billy rubs his face. “Damn— fine, alright.”
They get his guitar from the bedroom, locking it again so their bed doesn’t get used. The garden has a wooden deck, which almost looks like a stage with them standing on it.
He watches Daisy next to him, as she waves her arms and calls everyone over. A commotion is exciting— and the partygoers are dying to hear what this crazy redhead has to tell them.
Billy mindlessly plucks a few rhythms whilst she introduces them. He doesn’t have the energy for his usual showboating.
They decide to play a stripped-back version of Let Me Down Easy. It’s the quieter one of their songs. He takes it down a tempo, too.
The melody echoes through the guitar, as sweet as sugar. Maybe it’s the things they feel for each other that make it sound like a serenade. The lyrics, they’re optimistic, like they’re promising they’ll do better.
If you’re gonna let me down, let me down easy
If you’re gonna let me down
Don’t you go and tell me that you love me while you’re leaving
If you’re gonna leave me now
Daisy has this twinkle when she looks at him. She shines, really. It was weird how— in this reality, the same lyrics landed so different. The same song. Billy planned to get everything back to how it was. The music wasn’t really worse, or better— where there was once fuel of hate there was now fuel of love. Same strength, other power.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
The crowd squeezes Regret Me out of them before they retire to Daisy’s car. Billy’s lying with his head propped up on the door. She’s lying on his chest, playing with her bangles. He takes a cigarette out and lights it, offering her the pack. Daisy observes it, before refusing. Billy shoves it back in his pocket as he blows out smoke.
“First night in our own place and we’re stuck in your car.” Billy jokes.
Daisy laughs. “I know. I like it in here, though.”
He stares up at the roof. There’s a few crystals stuck up by threads. Some fake flowers, too. Oranges, golds, rosey reds. “Feels like you.”
“Thanks.” she sings, shuffling so she can see him. There’s words stuck on her tongue. Daisy holds it stiff.
“What’s up?” Billy pries.
She exhales, biting her lip. “I went to the Doctor today. That’s why I was gone so long.”
His brow wilts. “Oh? What’s the matter?”
Daisy snorts gently. “Billy.”
“What?” he asks, confused.
She drags her fingers up his t-shirt. Maybe she’s waiting for him to figure something out, but he’s clueless.
Then, he notices a smile creeping up on her. “Wait—“ he stops. Billy’s eyes widen.
Daisy smirks, her cheeks blushing. “I’m not sick, Billy.”
He can’t rid the smile on his own lips, jumping to a conclusion. “We’re having a baby?”
The blues of her eyes seem to flicker. She can’t play her little game anymore. “We are.”