PROLOGUE : marilyn, the roadie

( come and get it, part i )

————

MARILYN DUNNE WAS BORN on a warm Summer's day at the start of July, 1954. Sun shining, birds singing, and no irritating beep-beep of hospital equipment to be heard — because Marilyn was a home birth, exiting the womb with so little warning that her parents barely even had time to get out of bed, let alone grab their pre-planned hospital bag and load up in the car. This bright-eyed, bubbly little baby girl was born right there on the master bedroom's carpeted floor, with her father by her mother's side, and her two older brothers, William and Graham standing in the doorway with grimaces etched on both of their faces at the sight of the miracle of childbirth.

For one year, the Dunnes were a perfect little family. Sure, they had their issues, what family doesn't, but they loved each other dearly.

MARILYN ROJAS-DUNNE (bass guitar and vocalist, Daisy Jones & The Six): Thing is, when Hank left, I hadn't even developed the ability to form memories. I mean, I don't remember him in the slightest. Then, there's Graham, you know, who had some vague memories here and there, stuff like him strumming some chords on his guitar while sitting on the couch, or shouting at Mom while she was cooking dinner because the food wasn't ready right as he got home. But, Billy... fuck, [he] had a dad for eight years. [Hank] taught him how to ride a bike, how to throw a mean right hook at those asshole schoolyard bullies, got him out of after-school detentions for throwing said right hooks at said bullies. Billy was the only one of us three to have a Dad, not just a father. And he walked out of all three of our lives.

It's on Marilyn's tenth birthday that she gets her teeny-tiny hands on her father's guitar. Billy gave it to her, sloppily wrapped up in Christmas wrapping paper, little Santa Clauses and reindeer and candy canes decorating the exterior, despite the fact that her birthday is damn near six months out from that holiday. There was also no actual need for the wrapping of the guitar outside of pure symbolism, it was still his and Graham's to use as well, but this was the first time either of the boys even let her near the thing.

She played that guitar every day, morning until night. Every second that she wasn't in school, she spent learning new chord progressions, new strumming patterns, listening to guitar riffs over and over and playing them by ear, from age ten to age fourteen, becoming a master of her craft. Then, with the money she scrounged up from odd jobs around Hazelwood — mowing the lawns of her neighbours, walking dogs, house-sitting — she took herself to the music shop downtown and bought herself a bass guitar. And from age fourteen to age sixteen, she learnt that too.

MARILYN: It's kinda funny to me, actually. It was 1968, right, and Graham had just gone through this breakup with this girl who thought he was going to be with forever, and Billy gave him this entire pep talk that essentially boiled down to: "You're a musician. Girls like musicians," and so, Graham started this band.

     GRAHAM DUNNE (lead guitar, Daisy Jones & The Six): I'll just say, I actually did want Marilyn to join the band right from the beginning. I brought it up with the boys — Billy [Dunne], Warren [Rojas], Eddie [Roundtree], and Chuck [Loving], and literally only Warren was down for it.

     WARREN ROJAS (drummer, Daisy Jones & The Six): I hadn't even heard her play. [laughs] I just thought she was hot, man.

     BILLY DUNNE (lead singer, Daisy Jones & The Six): Yes, I knew that Warren was into [Marilyn]. You know what? Eddie and Chuck were too. That's the reason I didn't want her in the group. C'mon, can't have these dickheads ogling my little sister. She was fourteen for Christ's sake.

     MARILYN: So, the guys didn't let me join, but I was not just going to sit there in my room twiddling my thumbs while my brothers and their friends go off playing shows and shit, right? So, Billy and I, and I guess the rest of the band, came to this agreement: I come along with them but only to cart around and set up their equipment, schmooze with people at their shows to book more shows, essentially, I became some kind of combination of a roadie and a manager.

     WARREN: Billy literally made her stand out of our line of sight while we were actually performing just to make sure that none of us made eyes at her. I don't even think he's that protective over his kids. And, even with all of that effort, I still married her. Suck on that, William.

     MARILYN: There was one show, though, in '70, I think. The Dunne Brothers were playing a wedding and everything was going well, like really well, and I was by the buffet table because it was late and I was hungry, and at this point, I really didn't care about the 'line of sight' rule anymore, and I looked over at the band with like, half a chocolate éclair shoved in my mouth, and I saw Billy's face. He literally looked like he'd been sucker-punched in the gut by Mike Tyson. Like, he looked like he was genuinely in pain. I was kinda confused, I didn't really know what was going on, but then Billy looked at Graham, and Graham looked just as fucked up. And, then I looked where they were looking and I saw this balding, older guy in a plaid suit, I think it was, dancing with this girl who — I mean, she couldn't be more than a few years older than me, I was sixteen at the time. She was like, maximum, early twenties. I had a clear view of this guy's face, and I didn't recognise him one bit, like, this man may as well have been a stranger, but I knew, just by looking at Billy and Graham, at their reactions, this guy wasn't a stranger.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE (rhythm guitar, Daisy Jones & The Six): Billy nearly knocked Warren's cymbal over from how quickly he stormed off the stage. It's kinda funny, in hindsight, but we all knew something was wrong. Graham followed him, we followed them, and [Marilyn] followed us.

The second she swung the doors open, Marilyn regretted not bringing her jacket with her, the chill of the evening sweeping over her entire body, bringing forward goosebumps on the skin of her exposed arms and legs. She rubs her hands up and down her biceps in a desperate attempt to generate heat. The boys are luckier than her, dressed up all fancy in their finely pressed suits. The only items of clothing in Marilyn's wardrobe suitable for a wedding are short cocktail dresses, and her only faux-fur trimmed jacket is still in the jalopy that The Dunne Brothers cart their equipment around in.

"What the hell just happened?" she asks. The boys were already looking at her before she spoke, not because the sound of the heavy door opening commanded their attention, but because their gaze always happened to fall on her in her pretty colourful dresses. If Billy wasn't so hung up on the situation at hand, he'd punch the teeth out of Eddie, Warren, and Chuck's mouths in one single movement for looking at his sister like that.

Graham sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Marilyn had made sure it was styled before the show, she made sure all of the boys were presentable before they went on, and she's just thankful that their set is done because he totally fucked up the magic she had worked on him. "You see the guy in there with the plaid suit?" He's asking everyone, not just her.

"Who? The creepster with the combover and the girl half his age?" Warren snorts. His rampant head-banging while drumming had destroyed his hair about twenty minutes ago, wild curls hanging in front of his eyes, and he's attempting to flip them back into place instead of tucking them away with his hands.

Graham nods. "Yeah, he's our dad."

This time, Marilyn is the one who looks like she's been sucker punched. "That—" She stops, takes a breath. "That's our dad?"

In hindsight, it's obvious. She just didn't pick up on it.

Her brother gapes. "You didn't—?"

She shakes her head.

"Shit."

GRAHAM: I mean, I was four when he left. So, I never really had a father. But, it was different for Billy. He worshipped the guy. And, Mari... I think she idolised the version of him that she made up in her head, because that, well, I think finding out what he was really like broke her

MARILYN: [laughs]. Of course, he said that. I didn't idolise any version of Hank, real or imagined. I hated the guy for leaving us, for leaving Mom to raise three kids by herself. I hated him for making me look like an idiot at school on the day when we were meant to draw our family tree because I only drew Mom and no dad, and when my teacher, Miss Emerson, I think? Anyway, she told me, "No, honey. Everyone has a mommy and a daddy." And, first of all, not true, gay people literally exist. But, so have single parents. That's what my Mom was. I told her that, I said, "No, I don't have a dad. I just have a Mom." She told me I was wrong, took the pencil out of my hand, drew a second line up from where the stick figures representing Billy, Graham, and I were, and wrote "DAD" in big letters. When she walked away, I scribbled it out.

Billy's been gnawing on his lip and staring into space for the better part of however long the band has been standing outside, but he stops just in time to look over and see the heartbreak evident on his sister's face. He fights back a snarl. "I'm gonna say something," he says as he makes a break for the door. Graham makes a solid effort to stop his brother but Billy, bigger and stronger, wins the struggle and storms inside, the rest of the band, and Marilyn, in tow.

MARILYN: I nearly threw up when I saw [Hank]. He was cuddling up to this other young girl, arm over her shoulder, whispering in her ear. It was gross.

When Marilyn next gets a good view of her father, Billy is already up close and personal with him. The men are just about chest-to-chest with each other. The girl by their father's side has already removed herself from the situation, no doubt after seeing the fire in Billy's eyes.

"Help you?" the older of the two men asks, more annoyed about losing his way-too-young companion than he is about his personal space being invaded.

The remainder of the band crowd around the pair on the dance floor, Marilyn standing right by Billy's side, solely to get a good look at her father's face. She doesn't see any of herself in there.

"Yeah, you know who I am?" Billy asks. He then nods his head to his left, to where Marilyn and Graham are. "Who we are?"

Their father gives the three of them a once-over. A cocky smirk grows on his stupid face. "Should I?"

Billy's nostrils flare. "Yeah, you should."

It's too quiet. The entire wedding reception stopped to watch the altercation. It's not the kind of audience Marilyn likes, not the kind of audience Graham, or Eddie, or Warren, or Chuck, or Billy ( probably ) likes either. Marilyn kind of wants the ground to swallow her up, but she also kind of wants to see how this goes.

"Well, then, of course, I do."

Marilyn snarls. "Cut the bullshit." A hand lands on her shoulder, a soft whisper of her name leaving Warren's lips, but she jerks her arm away and ignores him.

"No, no," the man says. He gestures up to the stage with nothing but a jerk of his head. "I'd recognise that guitar anywhere." Because, why would he recognise his children? "Anything else?"

Graham reaches out and grabs Billy's shoulders. "Hey, he's not worth it, alright? Let's go home."

But Billy, like Marilyn to Warren, shakes Graham's hands off of him. He hops right back up onto the stage and grabs the guitar, then jumps back down and shoves it into his father's chest.

"Take it." Nothing. "Go on, take it." Still nothing. "I said fucking take it!"

The man shrugs. He's the epitome of calm and cool. "I've got no use for it. I gave it to you. Something to remember me by."

So, Billy lifts the guitar above his head and slams it to the ground, shattering it into splintered pieces in front of everybody.

"There you go, asshole," he growls, finally taking the opportunity to leave before things get even messier. Marilyn turns to follow.

Until she hears her name from her father's mouth. Only, he's not saying it, he's asking.

MARILYN: Asshole didn't even remember my name. You wanna know what he said to me? The first thing my father says to me in fifteen years? "You sure grew up pretty." What's worse, he didn't say it like it was an observation or even like it was a compliment. He said it with this tone where you know the word 'pretty' actually means 'sexy'. And, I wasn't the only one who picked up on that. Warren and Eddie grabbed me and started pulling me away to the doors, not because they thought I'd do something, but because I think they thought that he'd do something. Chuck just kind of lingered, watching everything go down. And Graham? He punched the fucker right in the face. [laughing] Nicest thing he's ever done for me. God, I love him.

The cold air once again sends a chill down Marilyn's spine the second she steps outside, though this time, her two kind escorts take notice. Eddie quickly unbuttons and sheds his suit jacket, which the girl puts on with a genuine 'thank you'.

"Guess we're not getting paid for that gig, huh?" Warren attempts to joke, but he receives no reaction.

"Billy? You okay, man?" Eddie asks.

Billy's busy staring off into space again, but he comes back to Earth upon hearing his name. His brow creases in thought for a moment, an action he repeats so often that he has a permanent wrinkle between his eyebrows and above his nose from it. "Guys, come here. Mari, you too."

The Dunne Brothers, plus one, form a huddle.

"You're my family. I love you. We work hard, we stick together, we're gonna be the biggest fucking band in the world someday. Do you trust me?"

Not a single person disagrees.

"We're family. Come here."

MARILYN: You'll know this better than anyone. Billy's wrong about a lot of things. Like, a lot. But, he was so, so right then. We really were the biggest band in the world. We were fucking amazing.

————

a/n:
oh my god, i'm so happy to finally have this out. i was honestly just waiting for the show to give me an idea of where in the timeline we were at (solely for the little wikipedia bit in the previous chapter) so thank you to episode 5 for the "1975" time card, much appreciated.

i'm so so so excited for this story and i truly hope you love marilyn as much as i do!! votes and comments are super super appreciated but, of course, no pressure. love you guys!!!

published : march 12, 2023
word count : 2.6k