1969 - The Rolling Stones

Chapter Fifteen

"You know what's even better?" Mick chuckled as we stepped into the morning sunlight. "Stephen Stills lives around here too. It's a little walk to his house but it's just exquisite, Olivia. You'll have to see it."
"I have to see it, huh?" I thought for a moment. Mick shook his head enthusiastically. "Why don't we just go up there now? We've got time." I really did not want to leave Mick's humble abode. As we found ourselves in the limo again on the way back to Lulu's house, Mick gave me a look. My favorite look. As much as we should've really gone back to Keith and all of the boys, it was just more exciting to go explore the other parts of this rock star goldmine called Laurel Canyon. I'd only ever really seen the canyon from Lulu's point of view. It was sorta odd of me to not really miss Lulu as much as I thought I would, but I guess I hadn't really taken it all in yet.
"Excuse me, Rob, could you turn us around please? I've changed my mind." Mick spoke to the chauffeur politely. I glanced over at him grinning widely and feeling like the luckiest girl. He exchanged a cheeky smirk.

-

Even the dirt beneath our feet was beautiful as we walked along the canyon. The sun was shining down on us so brightly, and I could see little droplets of sweat run down the side of Mick's face. The 'little walk' he'd said we would have to take to Stephen's house turned into a hike, and after 40 long minutes we'd regretted our decision to walk. I could see a look of stress and despair upon Mick's face as I turned towards him. I grabbed his slightly damp hand in mine and he perked up, smiling at me.
"What's wrong?" I questioned, smiling concernedly.
"Just thinking, doll." He looked over at me and flashed a quick smile to reassure me, but in no way did it phase me.
"Well what're ya thinking about?" I clung to his arm, as we began to swing our hands back and forth.
"Music, the boys, you." He named a few.
"What about it?"
"I don't know, I just, well- you know Keith is still hung up on you." Mick stared at the ground, kicking dirt with his pretty white shoes. "I feel bad, but at the same time I want to shake him until he realizes he can't have you."
"I think he knows, Mick. Please, just don't be so hard on him." I began to speak but my suggestion was shot down.
"Really, Liv? After everything he's put you through? Everything he's put us through?" Mick raised his voice causing  me to turn away.
"You don't get it. Put yourself in his shoes. Think about how he must feel knowing he can't do anything about it." I folded my arms and looked him straight in the eye. "Just because I'm with you doesn't mean I don't care about Keith. Okay?" I raised my voice as well, but I could see Mick doused in guilt. "And I know you love him too, so stop acting like you want nothing to do with him. Do you understand? Are we good now?"
"Fine. Just fine." He shook his head. The rest of the walk was short and dull, none of us speaking but both of us thinking.
We stood in front of an enormous house, slightly smaller than Mick's but just as glorious. Stephen Stills was jamming away on his acoustic guitar while slowly swinging on his baby blue porch swing. Stephen couldn't be bothered, so he didn't notice us at the bottom of the hill which his house rested upon. Mick and I staggered up this little stone pathway that went up the hill to his magnificent house. Stephen finally looked up for a moment from his guitar to acknowledge our presence.
"Oh, hey! Funny that you'd be here. He didn't tell me you guys were coming." The corners of Stephen's mouth slowly lifted into a smile.
"He?" Mick questioned, eyeing him confusingly.
"Yeah, you know, Keith." Right as Stephen mentioned his name, out from the screen door walked the living legend. His bare chest was exposed, and he was wearing these tiny leather pants that accentuated his ass nicely. In his shaky hand was a white mug full of god knows what. Mick looked as if he had just seen a ghost, and I giggled at the sight.
"Well hello, love." Keith's eyes brightened as he greeted me. His voice soothed me to no end, and I could listen to him talk for ages. He glanced over at Mick almost repugnantly. "Mick." He retorted with a nasty tone.
"Isn't this great? Everyone back at my place just like old times." Stephen chuckled a bit, before handing Keith the guitar. He sat Indian style next to Stephen on the still porch swing. It was the first time I'd seen an instrument in his hands for a while.
"It's actually great that you're over here. I've got a song I wanted to play for you." Keith sat up straight looking Mick and I up and down. We probably seemed miserable after all the trekking we did trying to find our way over.
"You didn't know they were coming?" Stephen looked over, in his puzzled appearance.
"No idea." Keith replied shortly, wanting to play his song. Mick spoke up before he had the chance to strum his guitar.
"Why didn't you say anything about coming over?" He cut in.
"I didn't feel the need to. It's not like you have to know everything I do." Keith seemed agitated. "Besides, you run off all the time and never tell us a thing."
"Hey-" Mick began to say something before I decided to stop the impending argument.
"Can you just let him play the song?" I glared up at Mick, who quickly shut his trap but kept pouting the whole time. Keith strummed away on his guitar, sending waves of bliss to my brain.
"Hey babe, what's in your eyes," his voice was mellow as he sang. "I saw them flashing, like airplane lights," The song was short and sweet, and I knew all the time he spent running away from us must've amounted to something.
"That's really lovely, Keith. What's it called?" I grinned while I walked over to sit next to him on the swing. Mick stood still right where he was. Stephen stood next to him, making more room for me on the swing.
"You Got the Silver."
"That's nice. Who is it about?" Mick talked quickly in an ugly, insulting tone. Keith glared at him with darting eyes.
"It's about you Olivia, actually." He slyly put his arm on the back of the porch swing, his fingers grazing my covered shoulder. I could see Keith was saying that to upset Mick, and so he stormed off into the house.
"Man, can we just get rid of all this tension? It's a little harsh." Stephen chortled a little bit, coming back towards us.
"Here, mate. I'm gonna go fill up my cup with the good stuff." Keith jogged inside handing Stephen the jagged guitar seeming completely untouched by the fact he caused Mick to run off.
"I don't remember them being like this. Has it always been?" Stephen found his place next to me and we rocked back and forth.
"No, not really. I guess they're just stressed about everything." I lied through my teeth, thinking I'd fooled him.
"No, no. That's not it." He replied, trying to put his finger on it. "I believe it's you by the looks of it." He laughed slightly, looking into the beautiful distance. "You've got them all in a whirl. I didn't get your name by the way. I'm Stephen."
"I know exactly who you are. You, Crosby, and Nash are three people who were just meant to sing with each other, let me tell ya that." We both looked at each other and began to laugh at my words. Their voices were truly angelic together. "I'm Olivia." My lips molded into a smile, and I thought I should check on Mick. Suddenly, they both trotted out of the house appearing as if nothing happened.
"Liv, I think we should probably get going." Mick raised one eyebrow while Keith turned to face him.
"You just arrived. What's the hurry?" He grabbed Mick's shoulder and shook him lightly.
"Yeah, at least let Olivia see the pool first." Stephen butted in, convincing an uncomfortable Mick. I gave him those puppy dog eyes and a pleading face hoping it would work.
"Alright, alright. Just for a minute, then I think we should get going."