American Entertainment 1978: New York Night Fever

Chapter 94 All-Night Revelry

The elevator slowly ascended to the top floor of the hotel, where the air was stagnant and stuffy in the enclosed and cramped space.

Having just finished a high-intensity jumping performance, the heavy studded leather costumes worn by the members of KISS were completely soaked with sweat, exuding a strong, humid atmosphere.

Add to that the strong body odor of Westerners, the fragrance of hairspray, and the lingering smell of gunpowder from stage fireworks, and the whole elevator smelled incredibly strong.

The group was already used to this environment. As soon as the elevator doors opened, they rushed out and ran back to their private suites, eager to remove the heavy face paint and take a shower to wash away their fatigue.

Peter specially arranged a luxury room of the same level for Zeke, treating him exactly the same as the core members of the band.

Qi Ke quickly finished a hot shower, feeling refreshed. He had just changed into clean clothes when a crisp knock came at the door.

When the door opened, Peter had completely transformed, sporting the most fashionable outfit in the Los Angeles rock scene.

A loose, flowing satin shirt with puff sleeves, paired with extremely exaggerated flared trousers, is the most sought-after trendy style among young people right now.

His black hair was styled in a fluffy, high style, and he wore sunglasses that he never took off, even indoors. He exuded a lazy yet arrogant vibe, instantly giving off the aura of a rock star.

"Take a look at this." Peter stepped into the room, picked up the exquisite gift box on the corner of the table, and opened it for Zeke.

"Every time we come to Los Angeles, the company prepares a set for everyone."

The gift box is lined with fine velvet and filled with plump, fresh premium fruits and fine vintage red wine. In addition, a few grams of cocaine and a small bottle of sedatives lie quietly in the corner.

It also comes with a handwritten gold-embossed card: "Sincerely, Inier, welcome to Los Angeles."

Zik's pupils contracted slightly, and he couldn't help but mutter in disbelief, "—This is too absurd."

"Don't worry, it's all top-quality stuff from Casablanca, all covered by the company. You don't have to spend a penny. If you're not going to touch these, I'll take them later; it would be a waste." Peter smiled casually.

"Then take it quickly." Qi Ke didn't hesitate at all, he couldn't be happier.

He didn't want to touch this kind of top-tier perk that was too good to be true.

Peter quickly put away the gift box, then put his arm around Zeke's shoulder: "Come with me. I'll show you around and let you see our chicken coop."

"A chicken coop?" Qi Ke was slightly taken aback, somewhat puzzled. "You keep chickens in your hotel rooms?"

This inexplicable statement left him completely baffled.

Peter didn't explain, but just grinned mischievously and dragged him straight to a huge suite at the end of the corridor.

The moment the door opened, Zeke paused, nearly dropping his jaw in astonishment.

The spacious suite was packed with young women, a rough count of at least fifty. The room was overflowing with people, the air thick with the scents of perfume, shampoo, and youthful hormones.

All eyes were fixed on the doorway, their eyes filled with longing, anticipation, and restlessness, their emotions pure and unadulterated.

Some of them were the girls whom the four of them had remotely spotted and instructed their bodyguards to escort during the performance. The majority of them were seasoned veterans who regularly followed the tour and were deeply involved in the rock scene. When they saw Peter enter, they immediately went up to greet him familiarly and their behavior was intimate and natural.

Zeke instantly understood what Peter's slang meant: Chickencoop. In English, "chicken" is used to refer to a young woman.

He was already familiar with the social atmosphere in the United States in the 1970s. Whether in remote central towns or bustling coastal cities, there were always a large number of young girls who desperately wanted to get close to the stage and rock stars, hoping for an encounter and taking pride in it.

But the scene before him was far beyond his comprehension.

"After touring for so long, we've been bringing more and more girls back to the hotel each time, and it's too much trouble to keep moving them around," Peter whispered with a mischievous grin in Zeke's ear. "We've decided to rent an extra suite to house them."

Zik was speechless for a moment, utterly speechless.

He doesn't consider himself a law-abiding citizen, and in just six months he has come to accept the idea that occasional indulgence isn't a big mistake.

Compared to the lives of KISS and their ilk, theirs is simply insignificant.

The private lives of top rock stars are far more decadent and extravagant than he could ever imagine, and of course, they are also extremely hedonistic.

Before long, the other three members of the band also arrived at the suite.

Gene Simmons hadn't completely shed his stage persona yet, still exuding arrogance and a lazy, frivolous gaze as he scanned the entire audience. He unconsciously licked his lips and said in a low, husky voice, "I want a hot meal."

He walked straight up and casually strolled through the crowd, raising his hand to flirt and making casual remarks, his movements practiced and natural, showing his ease and skill.

Peter turned to Zeke beside him, raised an eyebrow and teased, "Anyone you like? Pick whatever you like, don't be shy."

He then raised his voice and solemnly introduced the man to the room full of girls: "Hey, ladies! Let me introduce you, this is my good brother, Casablanca's rising star producer and hottest musician, Zik Rossi, a true Italian tough guy! He'll be even more popular than us in the future!"

As soon as he finished speaking, several girls with eager eyes immediately gathered around him.

"Comeondude, Let's getiton"

~,”

Qi Ke quickly raised his hand and waved it, making up an excuse: "Thanks, but I have an appointment later tonight, so it's inconvenient."

He has no shortage of lovers, so there's no need for him to indulge in this assembly-line-style collective debauchery, and he doesn't want to be tainted by the extravagant and chaotic atmosphere of this circle.

Peter chuckled and called him a "disappointment," then leaned close to his ear and whispered gossip: "Even though we all mess around, Gene is still the one with the strongest sex drive. He's a lecherous maniac who doesn't discriminate—policeworts, 200-pound farm girls... he doesn't let anyone go."

"During one tour, he even got involved with our team's 60-year-old female driver. He also has a weird habit of taking photos and archiving them, which is just perverted."

After hearing this, Qi Ke felt his worldview shattered and his scalp tingled.

No wonder his stage persona is "devil"; it's truly a natural performance.

Meanwhile, the selection process in the room continued. Peter casually picked three girls he found pleasing to the eye, then put his arm around one of them and prepared to go back to his room to rest. The rest of the group either claimed the girls they had identified before the performance or freely exchanged or shared the girls their teammates had their eyes on. The boundaries were blurred, and the situation was chaotic and casual, clearly the norm, with no one caring about keeping quiet.

Zik frowned as he left the suite, which was filled with desire, his heart filled with mixed feelings.

He originally wanted to come and observe and learn the core logic behind KISS's explosive popularity, study their operational tricks for selling merchandise like crazy and having a strong fan base, and apply them to his own business.

But now he can't help but wonder: Is the core secret to the stickiness of top fans the unbridled messing around with them?

But this method seems a bit too hard on the back... Ordinary people definitely can't learn it.

He shook his head to suppress his distracting thoughts and returned to his room alone.

He picked up the landline and dialed the number for the cliffside cabin.

His affair with Stacy had already filled him with guilt, making it impossible for him to indulge in such unrestrained and carefree revelry as he did with the others.

The call connected quickly, and Marco's familiar voice came from the other end: "Hi, Zeke."

"Where's Judy?"

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a slightly ambiguous tone: "Um—Judy spent the night at Stacy's house tonight and didn't come back here."

"What?"

Qi Ke felt a sudden headache coming on, and his heart tightened inexplicably.

He had already vaguely sensed that Judy's attitude towards Stacy was too close and ambiguous, and he had always had some concerns. He never expected that the two of them would actually spend the night alone together.

Images flashed uncontrollably through my mind: the large bed in Stacy's house, covered with expensive silk sheets, with two girls nestled intimately together...

Absurd thoughts grew uncontrollably, even leading him to fantasize inexplicably: what if he were on that bed? Would it be a different experience?

He shook his head violently, forcibly shaking off the chaotic and absurd thoughts in his mind.

To distract himself, he planned to have the hotel deliver food upstairs so he could grab something to eat and fill his stomach.

I had just hung up the phone when the knocking on the door started again.

When the door opened, Peter stood there with a sweet-looking, gentle young girl, a playful smile on his face.

"Let me introduce you to someone." Peter stepped aside to let the girl behind him pass. "This is Connie, the sweetheart from Little Rock. She came especially to meet you."

The girl's eyes were gentle, her expression ambiguous, and her gaze fell on Zeke: "You're the one who created 'YMCA' and 'Sweet'..."

Is that Zeke from "Dreams"? I love your songs.

Peter put his arm around Zeke's shoulder, lowered his voice, and exaggeratedly explained, "Don't underestimate her. This is Connie Sweetheart, the legendary Bone & Skin in the entire rock scene. It's no exaggeration to say that she's the most charming woman in the world."

Upon hearing this, Connie not only showed no shyness or embarrassment, but instead puffed out her chest and licked her lips with a hint of pride. Her gaze became even bolder and more intense as she reached out to undo Zik's waistband.

Qi Ke quickly stepped aside to avoid her movement, feeling both amused and exasperated.

He simply couldn't understand what was so great about such a reputation!

"Really, I'm not lying to you," Peter continued, coaxing and enthusiastically promoting her. "The Big Funk Railroad even wrote her into their hit single 'We're American Band.' Her skills are unparalleled; she can win over the entire backstage crew first, then the whole band. Her suction power is like an industrial vacuum cleaner. Trust me, experience it once, and you'll be trembling with excitement afterwards."

Zik was completely convinced and felt that he simply couldn't stay in this hotel any longer.

He simply grabbed his backpack from the sofa and fled.

Connie's playful, reproachful voice came from behind, complaining that Peter was unreliable.

Peter laughed heartily, his tone casual and indulgent: "It's okay, sweet Connie can serve me. There will always be a place for you in my bed."

Along the corridor, Zeke walked briskly, and everything he saw and heard along the way was absurd and unrestrained.

Gene whistled merrily and returned to the "chicken coop" with a satisfied look on his face, clearly not having had enough fun; Ace's door was wide open, offering no cover, and he was shamelessly mingling with a woman, while two other girls were intimately entwined by the bed.

Scenes of extravagance and chaos unfolded before my eyes, the light and shadow blurred, and the atmosphere was eerie.

This is the real, decadent, and dissolute daily life behind the rock and roll heyday of the 1970s.

Zik even wondered if he had unintentionally inhaled hallucinogenic drugs and fallen into an absurd, decadent movie scene.