I looked at the manila folder in front of me. Walt had received some faxes from the Berrows brothers - they were Duran Duran's managers - and he suggested I do a little research.

Great. Just great. I have to read about some really wacked out boys from the U.K. that make music that I know I'm going to despise.

Sighing, I took a sip of tea from my Beatles mug, and got started. Each "guy" had their own fact sheet, and the way they had organized the information was almost laughable. It reminded me of those teenybopper magazine questionnaires that girls I knew in junior high used to read about Rick Springfield or Leif Garrett. In addition, I suppose the Berrows had provided Walt with pictures of the band so we could get to know each and every member.

Walt might want to know who these guys are, but I sure as hell don't. I looked at the first one. Simon LeBon, lead singer. Duran Duran. The picture was of a blond, messy-haired boy. The way he was looking at the camera, he just looked way too cocky for me. It was as if the glossy screamed out "primadonna!" I had a feeling I wasn't going to like this guy off the bat. Likes poetry, art. Voltaire, Rostrov. Hmmm...that's an improvement. He was a couple years older than me, which I thought was strange, because the way he was dressed he had to be off his rocker to be older than me *and* dress that strange.

I took the next two, since they had the same last name. I figured they were probably brothers. Andy Taylor, lead guitar. Roger Taylor, drums... But they didn't *look* related. And the fact sheets distinctly said - no relation. Roger Taylor looked like James Dean born 20 years too late. He had the hairstyle to match. Andy Taylor had shades and was trying to look all cool. I flipped to the last two.

Nick Rhodes, synthesizers and keyboards. Real last name - Bates. Founding member of band. Peering at the photo of Nick Rhodes, I was almost shocked. He looked like he'd just stepped out of Max Factor's personal salon. He was wearing makeup - quite a bit of it I might add - and his blonde hair stuck up in noticeable spikes. Just a little odd. John Taylor, bass guitar. First name - Nigel. Founding member of band, with Nick Rhodes. John Taylor had a huge brown tuft of hair on his head, and was wearing eyeliner. Maybe Nick did that for him, I snorted, giggling. His hair obscured his face so I couldn't make a judgment of how *he* looked. But all five of them looked like New Romantics.

The Berrows had provided us with passes to see their band when they were in D.C., so I figured, why not? If anything, this would be pure entertainment. Pure popular music drivel and I'd never see them again. Provided that Walt was wrong and this band was not going to be the next big thing to hit the United States.

The following week after I talked to Walt, the band were set to play a local club, the Bayou, on Wednesday night, and do an autograph signing the next evening at our store. I normally didn't work weekends but for Walt, I was willing to give in. I'd been to the Bayou several times before with my brother, saw Eric Burdon of the Animals perform solo there, and other memorable acts.

I showed the bouncer my pass and was ushered in. Walt was unable to come that night - he had other plans - but I suppose my pass meant something important because I was led backstage and was left with two 30-somethings. I found out these were the Berrows brothers.

"'allo, how do you do?" the first Berrows brother said, shaking my hand. "I'm Paul, and this is Michael." He gestured to the other man, smiling. Michael turned to me. "You're from Tower Records in the city, eh?" He had a strong Brummie accent, as did his brother.

I nodded. "Hello, yes I am. I'm Grace. Grace Huang. My boss, Walt Green, is very taken with your group. He thinks they'll be the next big thing," I said.

The brothers nodded. "Yeah, we think so too...I mean, we hope Duran will do well. We've put a lot of our own money and sweat and tears into this outfit and we'd like to see a good return on our investment," Paul said. "My brother here even put a mortgage on his house so the boys could go on tour."

"Wow! That's quite an investment."

They nodded. "Yeah, it was, but I'm thinking it was worth every pound paused. "Well, would you like to meet the band?"

I tried to look interested. "Sure! Why not." I shrugged.

The lead singer just then decided to duck out of a dressing room. Simon LeBon... "This is Simon."

"That's right, I'm Simon. Simon LeBon. Pleased to meet you," Simon said, extending a hand. I couldn't help but notice that he was looking up and down my body with his eyes, and that made me very uncomfortable. "Your name is Grace, is it?"

"Yes it is," I said, resolutely deciding that I did not like this Simon LeBon very much.

He smiled smugly. "Okay. Just checking. Well, if you want, you can meet the other guys later I suppose. They're busy setting up their equipment." He tugged on his ear. "Luckily for me, the only instrument I have is myself." He laughed as if this was some big colossal joke, but I groaned inwardly. Soon enough, the band was ready to play, so I bid adieu to the Berrows, and went back outside so I could get a better vantage point of the stage.

I noted the bass player sitting on the left, the keyboardist behind him, the drums to the keyboardist's left, and the lead guitarist in front of the drums. Simon as lead singer roamed the stage, and from time to time would stand next to one of the other guys to sing a verse. Their music was catchy I had to admit, and in particular I liked a song called "Planet Earth."

Only came outside to watch the nightfall with the rain,
I heard you making patterns rhyme...
Like some New Romantic looking, for the TV sound,
You'll see I'm right some other time...

Look now, look all around, there's no sign of life,
Voices, another sound, can you hear me now?
This is planet Earth you're looking at planet Earth...
Bop bop bop bop bop bop bop bop this is planet Earth...

The band exploded in New Romantic glory for every song, with the bass line very heavy with which I was rather impressed, and the keyboards were used to a very good effect. Overall, I was impressed with the band's sound. I wasn't sure that they were going to be as big as Walt had predicted, but they seemed catchy enough to be popular for at least this year. Some teenage girls were present for the show, and they all stood as close to the stage as they could, gawking and cooing during the entire concert. It was enough to make one puke.

Interesting...I suppose. After the show, one of the Berrows' assistants found me again and offered to buy me a drink. Being underage I said nothing, but ordered a bottle of water and nothing else. By then, most of the clientele had left, except for a few errant girls who were waiting for the band to make an appearance. The five finally showed up, in various degrees of disrepair, at the bar, and ordered drinks. This was of course after they signed autographs and took pictures with these seemingly too young groupies. Then Simon again unsuccessfully tried to pick me up.

I looked to the other guys for help. I nudged the blond keyboardist. "What can I say to make your lead singer get off my case?" I asked. "Nick, is it?"

He smiled broadly, sipping a rum and Coke. "Oh, Simon? He's the ladies man. What can I tell you? You have to watch out for Simon, and John," he said, gesturing over to the 6 foot plus brown-haired guy down the bar, downing a Scotch and soda. "They're real troublemakers. But honestly, they're really not that bad. They just *try* to look stupid in front of birds. I mean, girls, to you."

I couldn't help smiling back. This guy Nick must have been the polite one. He was diminutive to say the least - he was about my height. "Thanks for the warning. And by the way, my name is Grace. I work at Tower Records, where you guys will be doing a signing tomorrow."

He shook hands with me. "Ah, Grace. Nice to meet you. Nice to meet so many friendly people here in the States." He turned to his drink, then back to me. "So, did you like the show?"

"It's funny but you know what? I really did. I hadn't expected to," I admitted. "I'm a bigger fan of the classic stuff - Led Zep, the Beatles, you know."

"Mmmmhmmm," he said, nodding.

"I like what you did with the synth and keys," I said, and he thanked me for the compliment. "I wish I could play the keyboards. Why, Paul in the Beatles, with 'Hey Jude'..."

I almost didn't notice John Taylor barrelling down the way. "Who said anything about the Beatles?" John asked, requesting another drink from the bartender.

Nick turned to him. "We did," he said.

"I'm a big Paul fan," I said to John.

"Paul?" he snorted. "I'm a John man myself. 'Strawberry Fields" has got to be one of my faves."

I sighed. Oh brother. I hated getting into arguments with John fans. It always seemed to be that way - people either liked Paul or they liked John. They never could agree on anything so why should the fans? Instead of starting a fight, I replied, "well, together they could take on anything. They were the dream team - Lennon-McCartney. Too bad they aren't still together."

"Amen," Andy said behind me, then introducing himself. Finally there was an official introduction around, and I met each member individually. I suppose Nick made the best impression on me, although he was wearing a purplish shiny jacket and lipstick. He had very good manners and I couldn't help liking him. I told him about how I had wanted to learn to play keyboards for a long while, and he was more than happy to give me some pointers, and even suggested on brands I might want to try. Simon made me nervous, Roger was too quiet for me to make an assessment, Andy was noisy but that could have been because he was slightly drunk, and John, like Simon, looked to be a ladykiller.

I hoped we could keep them in line the next day. That is, I worried about those teenyboppery little girls. Secretly though I wondered if I could take the crowd at Tower. It seemed as though everyone at the club that night either was a fan already, or was made one after the spirited set. One could never be so sure.

Part 3
Duran Duran Writings by littlewillow