On Tour With Velocity

[fuckmeat]

This thread is fully cast. If you have a burning desire to be a groupie though, check out the OOC thread and we'll try to work you in somewhere as the band tours.

Li-Hua Zhao jolted awake as her alarm sounded. She sat up and tugged her blindfold from her eyes, squinting around her little VW camper van. She flipped on the radio, packed up her bed, boiled some water to make peppermint tea and wash with and once she was squeaky clean Li raked through the clothes she had brought. The ones she had saved for when Velocity arrived were too nice really for a muddy festival but she didn't care. This was her one chance and if she didn't get noticed... well she didn't know what she was going to do.

She twisted around in front of her small mirror. Li had picked out some jeggings, because they fit easily into her psychedelic wellington boots. Over those she wore a white T shirt that fell to just above her knees but was slit open in places, partially exposing the tattoos on her back, her midriff and the tops of her breasts. It hung slightly off one shoulder too. Veocity's distinctive amp logo was emblazoned across the front. Li hoped at the very least she could get it signed and meet her idol that way. Beneath the T shirt and jeggings Li was pulling no punches. A whisp of a black G string covered her mound, leaving no indication that she wore anything under the tight leggings. Her modest tits were lifted, underwired and augmented by a gel filled bra, making her B cup tits look like a generous C. Li went to work on her make-up too, framing her asian eyes with dark kohl, applying lots of layers of midnight black mascara and slicking deep crimson gloss across her lips. She put half of her dark hair into a messy ponytail, leaving the rest to fall seductively over her shoulders. She looked stunning and today she knew it.

Li locked up her van and made her way over to the staff muster point, clutching an insulated mug of tea and her clipboard and pen. She exchanged the previous day's laminate for a shiny new one, unthreaded the ribbon from her laminated pass and put it on a chain instead. If she went out into the main field she'd et mugged for this pass and even in the VIP areas there were wannabes who would try to steal her AAA pass to the stars. She hung it around her neck, the words 'Access All Areas' now emblazoned invitingly across her tits. Li She pushed her way to the front of the throng and gazed beseechingly up at Mario, the tall, blonde, tanned, sculpted, chiselled, mean tempered and totally gay manager of the dressing room areas. He knew what a thing she had for Eric Somerset and had been in two minds whether it was a good idea to indulge Li because she was so obsessed. Mario wasn't to know though that Li had been a confirmed lesbian since she was 16 and Eric had been the first man she had felt lightening bolt attraction to in the whole of her young life. Looking at her pretty, hopeful face though, it seemed that Mario couldn't bring himself to piss on her parade. He handed her a docket full of duties and tasks, making her the runner for dressing rooms 6-10. They were only portable buildings connected by a network of duckboards but to the thousands of fans about to stream in to the main area of the festival, they were the holy of holies.

Li sat on a crate to finish her tea and look over her sheet. Room 9 was to be vacated by 12, cleaned down and restocked with a new rider by 3, ready for Velocity's arrival at 5pm for a set at 8pm. 10pm was the headline slot but that was over on the main stage and no début act would be stupid enough to go up against them. At 8pm, on the newcomer's stage, Velocity would be the only act worth watching and everybody knew it. The main stage was going to be paying homage to an old timer, a veteran singer who should have retired years ago.

Despite arriving 3 hours before the gig, Velocity wouldn't exactly be sitting on their asses. Their kit would need unloading and setting up, instruments would need retuning and most musicians preferred not to delegate that. Then there would be sound checks squished in between other acts on the NC stage. The guys had to eat, paint their nails black, smear some fresh kohl around their eyes and do whatever they did to look so damn mean. Li would be lucky to catch them all in the dressing room at the same time, though it was only really Eric she was interested in.

She quietly but firmly chivvied the previous day's act out on time, then commandeered some cleaning staff and got the place straightened out. Li then handled their rider herself, summoning the food and drink they had ordered from catering and arranging everything nicely. She flew around the rest of her tasks, bolted a bowl of soup from staff catering and at 5pm she was listening intently to her radio for the announcement that Velocity's tourbus had checked through security. They didn't check through till after half past but that was rock bands for you. Li hovered around near room 9, eagerly waiting to welcome them and check they had everything they needed.

 

[OrgasmBandit]

Eric had woken up late that morning, en route to the festival. They had slept on the tour bus, as it had taken them a good part of the night to get to the site from where their last gig had been held. Things had gone well enough, but he was still adjusting to sleeping in a moving vehicle. That he'd slept at all was only due to the bottle of Jameson that now sat empty near his bunk. Despite being awake, though, he didn't move, instead simply staring up at the ceiling of the bus, hungover as hell. The lead singer and guitarist for Velocity was not one to normally get hung over, but he had found that sleeping drunk on a moving vehicle was the exception to that particular rule.

Only when he finally felt like moving, an hour or so later, did he sit up and make his way to the restroom. After finishing up his business there, he glanced around at his bandmates, seeing that they were already up and about. Following a short talk with them about the upcoming show, he picked up his iPod and cranked up the Sabbath as he lifted his guitar into his lap, getting himself psyched up for their show. When the bus stopped for food along the way, he didn't eat much, traces of his hangover still lingering, but otherwise he seemed fine, ready to go another long night. Happily, their next show would be the day after tomorrow, giving them plenty of time to get to the location, and so they would be spending the night in a hotel.

When they finally got to the location, Eric exited the bus last, grinning at the screaming fans that were waiting on them. Waving, he saw a few women that he mentally marked, hoping he would catch sight of them again later so they could be brought backstage after the show. If not, he would find others. There had been no shortage of hot women on this tour, even if they were not quite kinky enough to really sate him. Eventually, he would find one, but he knew now that was going to take a bit of digging, even for him. Glancing around, he waited for their tour manager to find out where they were supposed to go to prepare themselves.

 

[princesssexci]

Alex stared at herself in the hotel mirror, she couldn’t believe that she was following them, again. The last concert she’d been to, she’d promised herself that that was the last time she would follow them, the last fucking time! However, even then Alex knew she was lying to herself. That was why she was sitting in the hotel room. She knew they were to be at their hotel room sometime soon (because during the last tour she’d made “friends” with the clerks), they were late however so she didn’t need to meet them at their room right away. Besides, she was certain there were other girls there, waiting.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this, again. Lex you have lost it.” She told herself as she applied her red lipstick. Truth be told, she didn’t even like rock music, let alone hard rock. It was probably because she’d grown up listening to so much of it when her father had attempted to be a rock musician that she couldn’t stand listening to it now.

The only reason she knew about Velocity was because her friend used to be a major fan of them and had dragged Alex into her fandom before ditching her. Alex only continued to go to the shows because there was one guy on stage whom she seemed to have this unspoken connection with. It could have simply been a figment of her imagination. Maybe she truly had lost her mind because honestly, how could you have an unspoken connection with a man you’d never even met before.

After applying her lipstick and perfume, she glanced at her watch. “Well, they should be here soon, should I stand by their room like all the other desperate women?”

She had to laugh at herself for that because she could easily consider herself just as desperate as the other girls probably waiting for them if they too had contacts like she did. Man, it was awesome having rich parents…not to mention a sexy body just in case the concierge didn’t know who your rich parents were. She tied up her black hair and walked out of the hotel room and headed down to room nine hoping like hell no one was there, guarding the room already.

 

[MaskofSand]

"Ladies and gents, gents and -beep-heads, It's Bong here, coming to you live from- Wait, did they just bleep me? Did they truly just -beep-ing BLEEP me?! What the -beep- is this -beep- -beep- -beeeeep-?!"
And suddenly, the headphones were blaring HiM into her ears.

Laurie's mic lowered, glaring at her production assistant as he stared at her with wide eyes, shaking his head slowly. He didn't know either. "I'm on delay. They've got me on God Damn delay!," She hissed furiously, snatching the cell phone from Danny's hand and calling the studios back in New York. "Jerry! YO! What the FUCK is the delay about?!" She grit her teeth, pacing in the tromped down dirt of the back corner of the festival that she had claimed, the rented van baring the banner of her internet station, Killer Radio. Her bosses joked that Miniature Pinscher embossed on the sign, with its giant spiked collar and tearing into a mic, was actually Bong in bitchform. "No fucking JOKE about it. You talk shit about my bands, I will bite your ass," she had snapped at a listener only weeks ago.

"Well, yeah, I swear a lot! You said you LIKED that, assfuck! Remember? So I'm keepin' it up! No, I don't care about the... Wha? Oh don't you fucking dare. Do not threaten me with that shit, Jerry. I am not coming home until this thing is over. Yeah, fine. Keep the fucking delay. But I tell you one thing. Whoever's manning that censor? He better have some fast as hell reflexes. Because I ain't toning it down. Yeah. Yeah, fuck you too, Jerry."

She sighed. "Looks like they only wanted the promo for now. Fine. Whatever." She tossed the mic to Danny, nodding back to the van. "Lock it down for now, alright? I'm going to see if I can get backstage."

"Where's my pass?," Danny asked softly, still clutching the mic to his chest.

Bong laughed, glancing back at him as she walked away. "Sorry, sweets. Someone's gotta guard the shit. I'll bring you a tee or somethin', kay?" Taking the pass from the passenger's seat of the van, she slipped it over her neck, slapping the 'media' sticker against the bottom right corner. "Or whatever else I may come across." She smirked again, slamming the door closed before heading for the stage. The chain jingled about her neck, twining in with the other necklaces that dangled against her chest. Her shirt was another station promo; a short ripped up black babydoll, Killer the Dog tearing through Caution Tape across the chest, the rips looking more like Killer had gone psycho on the shirt than intentional rippings. Beneath that, things were simple; just a super-short black denim skirt, a pair of black boots finishing it off.

As she made her way to the back, she frowned at the man blocking the way, adamantly raising her pass. She smirked as he let her thru, making her way further back.

Bong

 

[everbloom]

Ellie found herself in the back of a gas station bathroom, holding the door closed since the chipped silver lock hung pitifully sideways. What kind of moron put a two piece lock together where it made an upside down “v”? God! This wasn’t like rocket science. Ellie kicked the door in frustration and it moaned under foot, slamming back and hitting the brick wall. It was almost impossible to dress without letting the door go, exposing herself to whatever trucker or whoever passed by. Peeking her head out she looked both ways, her light red hair blowing with the gentle wind that had been going since morning.

It seemed clear.

Quickly she slinked out of her paisley dress, pushing it down the bow of her hips before it fell to her feet and she booted it off towards her black sports carrier, leaving her digging around her bag only in simple black panties and bra. Before she had taken off for the hour long trip up here, she had stopped by a more thriving music store and picked up a Velocity t-shirt. One that was fuchsia colored with a large amp logo stamped across the front. Tossing her brush and other things out of the way she was able to dig out her tightest dark-wash pants she owned. They sat low on her hips, leaving little space between the bands shirt to accent her hip bones. Splashing water on the bathroom’s mirror, she wiped the dust and dirt off to see herself with toilet paper double wrapped around her hand. Carefully she slipped her pointer finger under the toilet paper and pushed it into the trashcan. Something that seemed to be a chore, considering how much toilet paper and other items hadn’t made it there and where scattered across the dingy red tile.

She had never been much into makeup, but this whole week she had been feeling like this was her chance to have fun. Doing her best under the single fluorescent light she carefully lined her grey-blue eyes with dark black eyeliner and swiped lengthening mascara against her lashes. Looking back at herself, she looked completely different. Her freckles looked less like a young-girl imperfection, and made her face look even more striking. All the attention seemed drawn to her smoky eyes, making her dull greys blaze blue. To balance it all out, a touch of shimmery red lipstick that contrasted with her smooth pale skin. Something more of an edgy vibe floated through her. For a few laughs she pretended to look mysterious, Ellie let her lips fall slightly apart like she had seen women do in magazines and turned her back towards the mirror before looking back over her shoulder, letting her hair dangle alluringly down her back in soft ringlets, as if she really was the bad-girl she was portraying. The best she saved for last, two twin jet black six inch heels. When she put them on, she had to duck down to see herself in the mirror it lifted her so much. Picking up her clothes and stuffing it back into her bag until it fit in, she left the restroom. Banging the door closed because she was still slightly pissed at it, she stumbled a bit until she got her footing on the cracked concrete.

She hoped tonight would be the best night of her life. Everything she could dream of could be offered, that hard-core edgy lifestyle seemed so enticing. Outside she must have not be the only one that felt it to, she walked with the spring, one foot directly in front of the other. For effect she put on sunglasses and a smile. The England skyline reflected on the surface. Oh yea, tonight was going to be a dream. On that thought, her mind went wild as she drove to the actual the concert, her nerves so high she could feel them bouncing around under her skin. Each turn was bringing her closer and closer, she had never been so happy driving her piece-of-shit blue Honda in six inch heels. Ellie hadn’t enough money or the connections to get a back-stage pass, but it didn’t dampen her mood, just being her was enough for her. She had a plan though. Her plan was to slink her way through to the front, even if she had to push, something inside her felt like she would be unstoppable.

 

[fr33ks33k]

Teddy's wraparound headphones drowned out much of the noise made by the bus and the rest of his band-mates on their long trip from the last gig. His feet tapped to the beat as he replayed the show in his head; the throng of screaming fans shouting their names along with the band's name was a heady reminder of just how far they'd risen in so short a time. Of course, he also remembered the string of sexy women lined up backstage, all dolled up in their best dark glam-rock outfits, trying to be the 'freak of the week', as Teddy had come to call them. A smile curled his lips and his feet kept tapping the rhythmic beat of his music.

A tap on his shoulder jolted him out of his daydreaming, and he slipped off one earphone to hear what Eric had to say. They were about at the festival grounds, and they had a place that was supposed to be all set up when they arrived. He nodded and took his other headphone off, stowing his MP3 and stretching a bit. The bus was far from comfortable, and the opportunity to walk around was inviting.

When the bus pulled into the festival parking area, Teddy was the first one off, looking off at the stages trying to figure out which one they'd play on, admiring the array of scantily clad women, and those less scant but more alt in attire. Teddy grinned wolfishly at a few girls gawking, crossing his arms and leaning against the bus as the rest of the band spilled out and took in the surroundings. Freddy'd be out soon and show them where they needed to be. For now though, Teddy was content to check out the abundance of eye-candy on display.

 

[Leopald]

Fredrick Nelson was wired, wound up tighter than a kid after a couple double-shot espressos. He sat near the front of the bus, glowering at the floor, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently. He hated these long rides, and it always took every once of will to remember that it was all for the greater good. The money, the lifestyle, the bitches... All good enough reasons, but not quite able to keep him calm and collected on said trips.

As a failed musician turned manager, Freddy knew the business better than most. He'd seen it from both sides now, and though he was abrasive and hard to personally get along with, he considered himself fucking amazing at what he did. He was the one person willing and able to keep Velocity in line, however he had to, and still get them every possible thing they could want or need, before they wanted or needed it. Booze, drugs, bitches, whatever else, and he still managed to get a little something for himself.

Finally, they were reaching their destination, and the bus slowly pulled to a stop. Throngs of screaming fans circled the doors as the boys disembarked one at a time, but nobody was looking at him by the time he gathered his things and followed. They had gathered and were playing the crowd with all the expertise of seasoned stars, despite the fact that this was effectively their first tour. But they didn't have time for this.

"LET'S GO, BOYS!" He shouted, trying to be heard over the crowd. The crew was busy unloading the bus as Freddy directed security to clear the path backstage to the rooms. Of course, the bitches were already backstage, waiting for their arrival. Freddy was used to being ignored by girls when the band was around, but it didn't do anything to help his mood. He started shouting orders to assistants, before turning to the band and giving them last-minute prep information.

"Harrison! Make sure that stage is perfect! I see one lose wire, and I swear to fuck, I'll fucking fuck you with your fucking mum's fucktoy! Conner! Where the fuck is my fucking car!? Quit staring at the fucking tits and ass and pretend like you want this job for once! Fuck!" His face was red by now, but he struggled to calm himself as he turned to the boys. "Look, I gotta go check the hotel, rooms are off that way, and Jimmy's got the production orders for the night. You call him if you need anything, and I'll be back in plenty of time before the show. You got my cell number if you need it."

Then he was gone, outside to the rental prepared for his personal use. It was a short drive to the hotel, and by the time he got up to the room, he was surprised to find girls waiting there, as well. "Ladies, the boys won't be here till after the show, get your sweet asses over to the concert." And sweet asses they certainly were...

After checking the room, putting out enough booze and substances to keep a battalion of soldiers happy after a deployment, he was back in the car, and soon arriving back at the concert. He checked his watch as he strode backstage. Still plenty of time, and he should check on the band.

 

[princesssexci]

Alex had been leaning against the wall for the past half hour listening to the tunes on her ipod while other girls started arriving to stand by the hotel room. She wasn't even sure how they'd found out where the room was, but she didn't ask either, mainly because she didn't care. Suddenly a few girls screamed as someone came near the room and started unlocking it.

The other groupies calmed down when they saw who it was, so apparently he wasn't their favorite band member. Another fact that Alex didn't know nor did she care about. Her eyes widened however, that was him. That was THE guy, the one whom she always came to see but never actually got a chance to meet.

She didn’t know his name, what his age was, hell she didn’t even know what instrument he played. She hadn’t actually seen him on stage all the time, maybe he was a stand in for the other band members if they were sick or something. She wasn’t sure but up close he was a lot sexier than when she stood in the crowd.

It didn’t matter and as the swarm of girls started making their way to concert, Alex lingered for a few minutes before finally leaving, knowing that talking to him now was probably not the best time in the world. She remembered what it was like before the start of a show, abso-fucking-lutely crazy. Alex wasn’t dumb and knew better than to get in the way of a rockstar.

Alex walked to her room, unlocked the door, then grabbed her tickets and backstage pass. Again, it really did rock that her parents were rich and at least her mom was known in the music world or else she would’ve had to spend a whole bunch of money for a backstage pass like a lot of the other girls there. Looking at herself in the mirror again, Alex adjusted her black leather V front top , pulled down her shorts as much as humanly possible and fluffed up her hair before heading down to the stadium where the concert would be.

 

[UnHolyPimpHand]

Laurence Hensley A.K.A. Quake Richter

Laurence hadn't slept, it had become a habit that he didn't sleep the night before a show. It harkened back to the days when nerves alone would keep him restless, lately though, it had been cocaine. Ah, the trappings of success.

A long rolling, snorting inhale cut through the silence as dawn broke. Quake was wide-eyed and red in the face as he sat up, trembling slightly without realizing he was. He pulled the narrow glass straw from his nose and with a great deal of effort managed to contain the enthusiastic shout that usually followed after he did a line. Instead he just made his mouth into a wide "O" and breathed out a long sigh of intense satisfaction. His face numb and his pulse pounding, he reached for the nearby bottle of Jack Daniels and took a deep swig. His face was too numb to taste it, his body too oversaturated with sensation to feel it, he drank merely to pass the time.

A faint spray of brown liquor spurted forth from his mouth as some managed to slip down the wrong pipe and into his lungs. He couldn't contain the volume on the cough that followed, his body desperately trying to cleanse the caustic liquor from his breathing passage. The last ragged cough managed to clear out the liquor, but also tore the fragile and abused capillaries in his nose, already raw from having so much highly concentrated cocaine passed through. The blood sprayed forth from his nose in a fine spray that splattered the table in front of him.

Laurence just chuckled faintly, using the collar of his faded, black "Stooges" T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, to smear the blood over the side of his face. It really didn't bother him, blood was sexy, it was dangerous, it was metal. The mess on the table was just another in a lifetime of messes that Laurence would leave for someone else to clean up. Quake never cleaned his own messes, not once in his whole life had he ever dealt with consequences. Once it had been due to his father's wealth and influence, then later in life it was because he didn't care, he had nothing, so who gave a shit about what became of other people's things. Now, the world was his, and there were teams of people just itching to clean up after him. Scores upon scores of willing peons who could dream of no greater thrill in their bland, mediocre lives than being a part of his messes.

The pale yellow hours of early morning hours passed by with drumming. Quake had been warned many times about the nuisance of him banging his marble drum sticks on the counter top when his band mates were trying to sleep, so their Tour Manager had provided him with a set of rubber pads that linked to a digital amp and converted it to sound that filtered into headphones for Laurence’s ears alone.

After twelve long roll-offs and a running syncopated high-hat, the rest of the band was rising. Eric woke with a mad dash to the lue, obviously suffering from a bad hangover. The down side of sleeping after a long night of drinking. It served as a reminder for Laurence of the cost of slowing down, much less stopping, both thoughts unthinkable. As he listened to his front-man puking his guts out, Laurence took another swig from his bottle of Jack and dipped a finger into the residual powder remaining on the table to rub into his gums.

Never slow, never stop. There was only one speed, full speed ahead.

Laurence banged harder on the sound canceling drum pads forcing the very thought of sleep from his mind. Lately they had been playing shows back to back, which meant it had been three full days since he had last slept. Still, he wasn’t tired, he was psyched! This was by far the biggest gig of his career, playing Glastonbury festival in the town he was raised in was the chance of a lifetime for Laurence.

A chance to redeem himself to the clods who had beaten the shit out of him when he was younger, to rub success in the face of his shit-bag father who cared more about quid than his own kid. A chance to really make a name for himself.

...The band he could take or leave.

In no time flat the bus was stopped and the high-pitched squeal of adulation flooded in through the doors. Freddy was shouting and swearing at them, but the words were lost to the overwhelming flood of screams from the crowd. As Laurence stepped off the bus with his band mates, it would have been useless to try to answer the fans with his voice. Scenes like this had made him an expert in self-taught pantomime.

“Me? You want me?” “No, no, I want you!” “Call me.” “Oh no, I’m not worthy.”

It was all silly pandering, enough flirting with the strangers to keep them buying the album, keep the fans requesting it, the jocks spinning it. Quake lit a cigarette from his baggy black jeans, as he approached the backstage area. Before he crossed into the causeway, Laurence spotted a flash of auburn and gold. It caught his attention.

A slender, frail girl, in her early twenties at best. She was sandwiched between a burley, biker looking type and a muscular security guard in a bright yellow shirt. She had her eyes closed and looked to be in pain, occupying the area of the crowd near the front, commonly known as “The Crunch”. Her discomfort and anguish bespoke of an innocence that Laurence found irresistible. Her dedication at pushing so far forward demonstrated a strength that Quake’s ego demanded he harness.

Tapping the security guard on the shoulder, Laurence pulled the young girl past the barricade, leaving the security guard to hold back the biker and the surge of others behind who saw her pass through and took it as an invitation to force their way backstage.

“’ello love. Wha’s your name.” Laurence asked with a smile, gently brushing a lock of hair away from her face. “A sweet li’ul ‘fing like you ought no’ be shovin’ wif the likes of vem.”

She was innocence incarnate. All that was Quake Richter in Laurence demanded that he corrupt her.

 

[OrgasmBandit]

With Freddy's departure, Eric glanced around at his bandmates, watching as Quake played up to the crowd, and already seemed to be choosing out a woman. Laughing to himself, he waved at their fans, rabid as they seemed, and shook hands with a few, not seeming to care about the glares that security gave him. Especially when a hot young thing offered up a rather nice rack for him to sign with a marker. Slowly, however, he made his way toward the room that Jimmy had told them, number nine. It would be their dressing area for the evening, it seemed.

When he finally got to the room, he was impressed to find that everything he had asked for was waiting on him in the room, in addition to one thing he had not requested: a gorgeous asian girl, seemingly a bit younger than himself. Glancing at her pass, he was clear-headed enough to put two and two together and realize that she was likely the one responsible for the condition of the room. Her shirt, and the way she was looking at him, proclaimed that she was another fan, but one lucky enough to be working backstage. It seemed, in this case, that her luck was also his.

Grinning as he approached her, he looked down into her eyes and told her, "You must already know who I am, if you're wearing this." As he spoke, he lifted a hand up and tugged at the neckline of her t-shirt, enjoying the way it shifted against her petite little body. "What's your name, luv?" Eric asked her, standing close enough to her that if there had been a wall behind her, she would have been effectively pinned against it, "And what's your job here?" Of course, whatever her job, he would have to see to it that she made it to the after-party. He'd give her additional reasons to be a fan, then.

 

[everbloom]

Ellie stepped out of her blue Honda just before six, a good two hours before Velocity would be playing. It wasn’t yet dark, but in the coming two hours that would change. The new day would be brought in by stage lights and pumping amps. She figured, and as she saw how big and cramped the audience was, it would take her a time to weasel her way through everyone to the front. Her best bet was to start early, and while everyone was calm. Other music flitted through the air around her with the wind, but in essence everything was still pretty calm. She had been right in her thinking velocity was the biggest band to play. Getting through the back wasn’t so hard, but Ellie reluctantly slid her finger under the strap of her heels and pushed it off her feet before scooping the shoes up. She doubt her killer heels would make use for the situation ahead. Out outskirts where easy, a few “Oh! Excuse me!” and “Sorry.” Made it easy to filter past, ignoring the stares.

In the middle, she was stepping on toes, crashing into people, having people crash into her, and there was not enough body space. A lot of women that were attending were gorgeous with multi-colored hair and glistening piercing across there skin, so it didn’t so much bother her when they invaded her space. It was the middle-aged men with Mohawks and beer breath that made Ellie’s eyes widened and fight harder to get by. When she was little of 2/3 of her way there, that’s when the grabbers came. The people who were just so psyched they couldn’t even wait for music, they were already jumping around, grabbing whatever. One girl caught her shoes, bringing them both down until the cluttered on top of each other.

She was one of those beautiful women she had been seeing. She was Asian, as seemed to be popular here, with fake plate blue eyes and hair the same hue to match. Looking at her as a whole she was covered in blue and black, blue glitter lined her eyes alongside black kohl, her lip ring ball shined blue. “That is why I wear tennis shoes!” she laughed holding up her shoe covered foot. “Yeah, would have been smart, this is my first concert.” Ellie said apologetically.

“Here.” The woman slipped off her black tennis shoes and held them on the tip of her finger for Ellie to take. “I like your heels” the little woman said ”it’s hard to find classic ones like those anymore.” Politely she traded with her, and hoped her own feet would be small enough to fit, sure enough they were a little tight but a lot better than trampling around barefoot. “Good luck.” The woman said before she continued down her path through swaying people.

It was so thick that Ellie had resorted to crawling under people, something that made her feel very conscious, and afraid she would be stepped on. Though it didn't last long, a security man picked her up to her feet. He was older, and god if he didn’t have a gut to put distance between them his breath would have made her shrivel up like a prune and float away in the wind like a leaf.

“People like you are why concerts are dangerous, go back.” Ellie peeked over the mans shoulder and to the sides of her. There were security guards each way, and she was only fifty people deep to the stage. Another man, a larger and more scary looking character appeared behind her, making a good ol’ Ellie sandwich, she couldn’t believe her luck. She arched her back on her tip toes to try and wiggle out of it, but something about fat just molds to your body and she was stuck. It was like trapping a pencil between a brick wall and playdoh. God, when the security guard laughed, it was hard to herself keep from crying.

“Whoa!” someone had grabbed her shoulder, sucking her out of her miserable situation like a vacuum. She stumbled slightly to turn around. The man holding her seemed about her own age, and she blushed from the attention as he led her through the barricade.

“’ello love. Wha’s your name.”

His finger tips touched her face and pushed back her ginger colored hair, the slight roughness of his touch felt good on her soft skin. He had a dark brown Mohawk, which she found even more stylish than the ones who had went all out and colored there’s. His was a cross between real world style, and rock. Or maybe she was just giving him to much credit. Just under his t-shirt she could see those tattoos that mesmerized her. So many things compiled together it was hard to tell when one thing started and one thing ended. The only thing she could pick out clearly in her short analysis was a spider web across his elbow.

For a minute Ellie had lost her voice. “Oh, Elizabeth.” She said. Who was this guy? Little did she know he was drummer for Velocity. The t-shirts she had seen didn’t have faces on them.

 

[fr33ks33k]

Teddy's eyes were drawn from the gaggle of fangirls fawning over them when one of the beefy looking security guys started ushering them away from the bus, presumably to their dressing room backstage. He pushed off from the bus and waded into the throng of people, the security guys making sure people didn't get too close to Teddy and the rest of the band. Signing autographs and shaking hands and copping feels all the way, Teddy saw Quake, their coke-loving drummer, snatch a pretty redhead out of the crowd to the dismay of their escorts. He laughed and signed another band picture, slashing with the pen like a knife more than writing utensil in his typical dual thunderbolt insignia.

Taking a second look at the redhead, Teddy also took note of a certain glint in Quake's eye...it was almost a hungry look, and that made Teddy laugh a bit more. "Poor bird's got know idea what she's in for..." he said to himself as they made slow but steady progress toward the backstage area. Looking around at the pressing mass of people, he heard a loud jingling, unusually loud amidst the raucousness going on, and another sight caught his eye. The jangling came from a mass of chains around a girl's neck. Her shirt was emblazoned with a rabid looking dog, but beyond that it was torn to tatters in places, obviously to simulate the ferocity of the dog itself, but also serving the purpose of exposing bits of flesh in places that might otherwise be hidden. Her legs were long, and looked longer in short jean skirt she wore, and were those...they were. Big black combat boots. "Nice..." Teddy said under his breath, just as he ran into one of the security guys. "Oh shit, my bad mate."

He looked back at where the girl had been, and she was gone, swallowed up by the crowd. He wondered if there had been a stage pass amidst the swath of necklaces and chains she'd had on. His wonder was cut short though as the security guys showed them into their room, number 9.

Teddy took stock of the room; nothing too special, but everything seemed to be in order and according to their requests: booze on the tables, booze in the fridge, snacks and other miscellaneous drug paraphernalia strewn about...and the chick Eric was talking to. He hadn't expected the groupie train to be rolling just yet, especially with one quite that attractive, but he shrugged and plopped down on one of the leather couches, twisted the top off a bottle of scotch and taking a long drink. "That hits the spot!" he said, setting the bottle back on the table.

"So Eric, who's the pretty little chicky? She our fluffer?" he laughed a bit and grabbed the bottle and took another hearty swig, leaning back on the couch and putting his feet up.

 

[MaskofSand]

Laurie snarled at one of the dumb little shits that decided her ribcage was a great place to lock her elbow, giving her a good hard shove with the edge of her own arm. "Bitch," She hissed under her breath, trying to scoot closer in the growing sea of drooling rabid fangirls. She rolled her eyes, inching closer with a few good pushes and stupid tricks (Really? Falling for the tap on the shoulder?), she finally made her way to the thin rope of yellow tape. Her necklaces clinked and jingled as another girl shoved, Bong starting to raise her fist-

Only to realize the band was arriving.
Oh, perfect. She lowered the hand of anger, calling momentary truce with the rabies around her. The group trodded through, taking their lapses long enough to greet fans that could catch attention in that quick opening. Fuck, that rib-bashing little whore just tore in front-!

Screw this shit.

Forcing her way over to the security guard, she shoved her press pass up, a cocktail of anger, determination and self-importance mixing in her eyes. "Let. me. the fuck. THROUGH," She snarled, losing any attempt at sweetness she may have had previously. "I've got 15 minutes to get one of them. JUST ONE OF THEM. To say an intro for me, or I'm gonna lose my fucking job. Now let me get past these silicone filled shits, and get my intro."

The man peered at it, then rolled his eyes, lifting the rope.

A snide smirk came to her lips, happily twisting the pass between her fingertips as her free hand gave a quick finger to the girl who kept prodding her. *Take THAT, Bitch.*

More security, more need to keep that laminated paper in hand. Finally shown the right room, a few other press-passes were found about necks, a little gathering already forming at the side of the hall. She scowled with that. NOW what?

 

[UnHolyPimpHand]

Elizabeth, she’d said her name was. It had a nice ring to it, it suited her well. It had so many different ways you could take it, so many different meanings and abbreviations that could all be Elizabeth. Internally, Quake’s mind was in a million different places at once. The dressing room, the show, the girl beside him, all the steps he’d need to take to make her into the squirming, wailing, begging little slut he wanted to see her become... First things first. One foot in front of the other.

“Lizzie, wha’ a delightful name.” Quake smiled, wrapping his arm around her petite shoulders and half dragging her though the causeway doors. “I’m called Quake, I play drums for Veloci’y. Stick wif me love, I’ll take you on va ride of your life.”

Quake grinned at her, leading her down the hallway to room number nine where the fans, media and his band mates had already begun to gather. A few girls screeched and broke free from the crowds to try and maul him, but a solid palm-shove to the face was the perfect cure for any screaming fangirl. As he neared room number nine, he slipped in and did a cursory scan.

There were bottles, platters of food, instruments, games diversions. Playing a rock concert was a little like Christmas morning for musicians, except they could actually get everything they wanted. Sometimes Quake would put obscure items on his portion of the rider just to see if they took him seriously, and if ever there was an item left off... Lord help the venue.

“Off wif vat shirt now, Lizzie.” Quake ordered, pushing the young girl into the band’s shared dressing room. “Well, you want us lot to sign it, don’ ya? Whip it right off an’ I’ll get it signed fo’ ya.”

He was just about to make his way into the room he overheard a piece of a conversation that caught his attention. The words “Press Pass” caused Quake to spin on his heel before he even got a chance to see if Lizzie fell for his shirt-signing ploy.

“Oi! Who va bloody ‘ell let a bleedin’ journo this close to our dressin’ room.” Quake demanded, shoving through the crowd toward the young woman who had the Press Pass and was venturing dangerously close to that precious area where the band engaged in all the most depraved and immoral acts that they didn’t want making it into the mass media. “Get back behind va press barricade, ya nosey lil’ git!”

 

[MaskofSand]

Bong smirked slightly as the pass gave her a wonderful entry, glancing over her shoulder with a slight *Take that, bitch* look to the duo of blondes clamoring to get inside. Looking to Dan with a proud grin on her face, she pointed to her shirt with both index fingers, jutting out her chest. "Media? No, baby. I'm the fuckin' queen of e-waves. Name's Laurie, but to those who know better, its B-"

She cut short as Quake spun around, the infuriated look on his face causing her own eyes to widen. Journo? Oh, shit; she'd heard about this, his hatred of media outlets. "Hey, hold on one damn minute here, I'm not-," she started quickly, shaking her head as he started to push her back.

No. No, not back to that horde of foaming fuckheads...!

"Hang on a- HANG ON A GOD DAMN MINUTE!," She shrieked, staring up at him.
God, he looked even more incredible than the websites and album art gave him credit for. A thousand times more with that look on his face...

"Listen. I'm not a magrag, or some stupid teeniebopper shit. I'm internet radio, and if I don't get an interview with you guys, I'm fucked. Please. I need this, I can't get fired, I just got into so much shit already, and to lose this, I really will be canned. I'll do anything to get in there. Please." She was breathing hard now, glaring back at the squealing fools that had just caught sight of him. "I'm already rather screwed as it is... Don't force me back in with those. One little interview. Even a sound clippet. Just let me have that, and... I'll get right out of your hair, go back to my van, whatever." She gave a hopeful smile, then jabbed a finger toward the room. "What, you think I'm gonna say shit about what you got goin' on in there? You know what I let fuckin' Meegs do in my studio? I don't care, man. I doubt you can do much worse."

 

[everbloom]

“Lizzie, wha’ a delightful name.”

“Uhm, you can call me Ellie.” She said softly as she felt his arm go around her thin shoulder. She frowned at it, what exactly was going on? When she looked back at him, he just smiled, which made her squirm a bit in grasp.

“I’m called Quake, I play drums for Veloci’y. Stick wif me love, I’ll take you on va ride of your life.”

This guy is the drummer? He was cute alright, but something inside her turned around in circles when he spoke.

“Nice to meet you.” She said as they went backstage. To keep up with him, she grabbed his hand as she turned to look back, there were so many people. She could believe she waded through all of them to get as far she did. It must have gone on for at least two miles worth of people. Ellie turned back as he pushed through the crowd, they seemed to be concentrated at the front of the door and near another man, talking to a woman with long black hair and those tattoos! Everyone had those tattoos! Quake led her through a door with a large gold “9” hammered on the front.

The actually room was just as crowded as the hallway except she saw a couple men, and another beautiful Asian woman. Only this one seemed different, something about her didn’t scream so desperately as a fan-girl.

“Off wif vat shirt now, Lizzie.”

Ellie’s footing stumbled as his large hands guided her towards another, smaller room. At that moment she felt a flutter of panic as it started in her stomach and flew up to her wide blue eyes.

Take off my shirt??

Gently her fingers looped in at the hem of her shirt, ready to remove when Quake burst out:

“Oi! Who va bloody ‘ell let a bleedin’ journo this close to our dressin’ room.”

She is press? Ellie thought when he screamed at the girl with the media pass. That definitely explained it, she wasn’t just some groupie with a gel pen and a whole notebook with paper for autographs. Quake was trying to get the woman out, but why?

"Hang on a- HANG ON A GOD DAMN MINUTE!,"

This wasn’t something she felt like she had any right to get involved in, but as she looked it around it started to become more apparent why a press woman shouldn’t be back there. There was alcohol, and something in Ellie’s gut told her she wouldn’t be the only under aged woman here.

Is that Cognac?

The rest of the place wasn’t as bad, there were lots of clothes and shoes and…were those handcuffs? Ellie picked up a shining duo metal bands. Sure enough they were, and they weren’t just the silver painted gag ones, these had elegant lace metal work done on the sides, along with a key whole that probably didn’t take just a circular small wrench to open. These things had teeth like a car lock. Quickly she dropped them, holding her hands up a little shakily as she processed what her next move would be. Certainly she could get out of this, I mean stuff like that was for after the shows, not before.

 

[fr33ks33k]

Before Eric could even spit out the words to answer Teddy's question, Quake and Dan arrived at the dressing room, making a racket and being their usual selves, which was fine by Teddy for the time being. Quake pushed open the door and ushered in the foxy redhead from earlier, and Teddy's eyes narrowed a bit, looking her over again, examining the nice tight curves of her body. Quake said something about signing a shirt, an old line he'd used hundreds of times to get the pretty ladies out of their clothes before they knew what his real game was. Li'l birdy still 'as no bloody clue wha' she's in for...

She was, at the moment, playing with the specially made handcuffs Teddy himself had requested for the room. The cuffs were made such that they could only be unlocked by a key Teddy kept around his neck on a thin leather strap. The locking mechanisms for the cuffs were tougher than nails, and banging them against things to try and break them only made their grip tighter. And to think, restraints were one of the more vanilla things the boys had requested the past few tour stops...he chuckled to himself as she tossed them back down, her eyes a little frantic for a moment. She seemed to be deciding what to do, making an escape plan or something of the sort.

No sooner than Quake'd shoved the girl inside, he'd spun on his heels shouting about a 'journo' outside the room. "Bloody Hell, fuckin' media's always gotta pry..." Teddy said with more than a sliver of annoyance. He didn't have quite the rage-on for the magazine people that Quake did, but he did enjoy a bit of privacy from the peering eyes of the tabloid pushers. Teddy rose quickly to his feet and sauntered over to the door, smiling at the redhead, saying as he passed "Ello luv, you stay right 'ere. Looks like we got ourselves a spy in our midst."

With that, Teddy stepped out of the dressing room, shutting the door and walking over to Quake and Dan, slinging an arm over each of their shoulders. The woman Quake had accosted was none other than the girl in the dog tee, tatters and necklaces and all. Sure enough, there was a laminated press pass among her copious ropes and chains. 'Ow the fuck did she get in 'ere past all the security that's SUPPOSED to be guardin' against these media fucks? Teddy had only caught the last bit of her rant about not being like the other media snoops and only wanting a small interview and getting shit-canned if she came back with nothing. "Well mates, wha've we got 'ere? Media spy come to take notes for 'er blog? Should we give 'er a li'l somethin' to talk about on her next post and get 'er out of our hair?"

Truthfully, Teddy was quite intrigued to see what her real game was. Something about her presence was more than the typical magazine slag pumping for info, but she seemed more eager to stay backstage than she let on. No one got this close to the band and was content to just leave and go 'back to the van'. The allure of being this close to fame was just too much to ignore. He continued with "Or maybe she's just another one o' vem," pointing to the still large crowd of screaming blonde, bubbly, buxom fangirls "and she just swiped vis pass to get a li'l closer...?"

 

[fuckmeat]

Li heard the screaming fans, their cries getting louder as Velocity progressed through the festival's backstage area. Running around purposefully between the mobile buildings, clipboard in hand and foam plugs in her ears, Li could almost forget that a seething mass of humanity was only a spit away, working itself into a collective frenzy. When she took her plugs out, it terrified her to think that nothing but a few steel fences and burly security guards stood between her and all those people. She could hear the security guys yelling into their radios, forcing people back with practised efficiency, bellowing at intervals of just a few feet, preventing the fans from crushing each other to death.

Finally the guys came into view and Li watched them approach. She had naturally decided to be effortlessly cool, and greet them with professionally detached warmth. Didn't happen. She stood rooted to the spot and watched Eric move towards them. One of the guys already had a girl in tow. Li couldn't even manage the pretence of ogling them with equal awe, she just stared at Eric, her clipboard hanging from her hand against her hip, forgotten. He saw her and bore down on her. He was going to speak to her! Li's mouth was suddenly stupidly dry. She stared at him helplessly, her knees suddenly feeling wobbly. She had spent months wondering how it would feel to actually be in the presence of this guy she had developed a crush on from a three minute music video, the guy who was making the girls Li used to fancy seem inadequate. Now he was here and her attraction to him hit her like a punch to the gut all over again. The low pitched, gravelly voice that had melted millions of gussets the world over rumbled into her ears over the din of the crowd.

"You must already know who I am, if you're wearing this." He lifted the neckline of her fashionably slashed t shirt, drawing her closer to him as he did so. Li took in his masculine features and the feral edge to his expression. He looked like he wanted to swallow her whole and Li was finding it hard to care. Eric asked her name, closing the remaining space between them and keeping hold of her top to dissuade her from moving backwards. She was forced to look up into his eyes as he towered over her tiny 5 ft frame. Scant inches from his hand, her nipples hardened with the heady mix of desire and fear.

A voice in Li's head was telling her that she was being stupid, that he had pulled this trick a thousand times on pliant young things, that she meant nothing more to him than the disposable packaging on a tasty take-away meal. He would fuck her and forget her. Tomorrow he would roll out of here on his fancy bus and never think of her again. Li acknowledged all this, but she was too turned on to care. Having only fooled around with girls, she still had her hymen and Eric looked like quite a way to lose it. She was ashamed of herself but in an odd way, that just made him all the more compelling. Who the hell was this guy, that he could make her cast her self respect aside like this?

"My name is Li-Hua Zhao." She stammered, her tongue flowing over the soft Mandarin name in the melodic way that it was supposed to be pronounced. "You can call me Li. I'm a runner here, I'm responsible for dressing rooms 6-10 today. I'm a big fan of your music." She added, trying not to sound gushy. Li found their music dark and exciting.

 

[princesssexci]

Alex had finally arrived at the stadium, the poor girls whom hadn’t had enough money to either buy a ticket or a backstage pass screaming their heads off. Alex debated on going backstage, it probably would have been better to go backstage instead of wait here with all the crazy fangirls. It was true that some people might consider her a fan girl but she wasn’t, not really. She was a big fan, yes but not to the point where she had pictures of certain band members on her wall and masturbated to thoughts of one of them cumming inside of her.

That was just silly!

After deliberating with herself, she didn’t want to be mistaken as a poor pathetic fan girl and thanked god that she had a backstage or else she would have had to stay in the crowd of screaming teens and women who probably had no chance of getting a boyfriend because they probably spent all of their time daydreaming of the life they could have had with a member of Velocity.
Alex headed backstage and didn’t really think it was necessary to flash a backstage pass.

“Miss, I need to see a pass to let you through.” One of the security guards said, blocking her way. Did he know who she was? She was Alexandra Michael’s and though her name wasn’t really known when it came to rock n roll, it was known in the pop world. Alex sighed and flashed her backstage pass knowing she probably wouldn’t have been able to get anywhere no matter what her last name was.

He nodded, then let her through. Looking around, she debated on where to go, she wasn’t exactly sure where the guys were…or more specifically where her guy was. This wasn’t as easy as she thought it was.

 

[OrgasmBandit]

Eric frowned just a bit, as he had been enjoying himself with the runner when chaos seemed to suddenly erupt in their dressing room. Of course, it was to be expected, but he could have done with better timing of it. Without thought, he draped his arm across Li's shoulders, and turned to look and see what the hell was going on, pulling her up beside him in the process. Once he saw the lovely, dark-haired girl with the press pass hanging from her neck, though, he realized exactly what the problem was.

Seeing that Teddy seemed to have things in hand, Eric simply watched, curious how things would turn out. At his suggestion that that the journalist was fan hiding behind a press pass, he laughed, and spoke up, "Since she seems to think we're so tame, maybe we should see what she's willing to do to get her precious interview." He was far more interested, for the moment, in Li, but that didn't mean he couldn't encourage his friends to give the nosy wench what for.

An amused smile still on the frontman's lips, he then leaned in, whispering into the lovely asian girl's ear, "So you're responsible for us, are you? What exactly does that mean, luv?" His breath was warm against her ear as he spoke, his arm preventing her from getting away. Being responsible in any way for Velocity was almost an exercise in futility, as she might already be figuring out for herself. Only their tour manager had been successful at all in curbing their need for chaos, and that only enough to get them from venue to venue.

 

[fuckmeat]

Li belatedly remembered that she was supposed to be working, ensuring the band had everything they needed... and nothing that they didn't, such as unwanted press attention. She shifted from foot to foot indecisively as Eric teased the reporter. The woman looked as pissed off as the snarling dog on her top but she wasn't trying to go anywhere. Li didn't know who Velocity's TM was or even if he was there with them. She turned to Eric for want of a better idea. It was incredible that he had his arm around her but Li reminded herself that he probably just wanted to ensure she spent more time running around after Velocity than the other acts she was assigned to.

"Is there a problem? I can fetch some security if you don't want this reporter hanging around. Most of the press are confined to the VIP areas anyway, I don't know why she would have an all areas pass."

Li watched through the doorway as the guys picked over the rider she had arranged for them, really hoping everything was there. It had taken Mario ages to painstakingly ensure every overblown ego at the festival had their little luxuries ordered in. Then Li had devoted a whole morning to gathering masses of food, booze and random crap together before arranging it all in the right dressing room. She really hoped nothing had been missed out. Velocity had wanted some weird stuff too. t was probably a lot about hype because the tabloids loved it when they got hold of a band's rider sheet and found anything particularly decadent or illegal there. Li wasn't involved in anything like supplying drugs but their tour manager would have that covered and there were a couple of corrupt security people she could point musicians towards if asked. The more adult items the band had demanded were in a box in the far corner of their room. Hopefully they would find them without too much hassle.

 

[MaskofSand]

Bong was used to people crowding her, looking for free shit and the like at outings. But this was far different than that, and the mention of security made her stiffen up a bit, raising her chin. "You don't need Security in here. I'm not- Fuck." She grit her teeth, suddenly wondering if maybe she should have let the intern do this.

She glanced at the band once again.
Naw, screw that. Pissed or not, she had their attention. This was working. Somewhat.

Their suggestion of seeing what she'd do for her interview caused a curious look to come to her face, her eyes darting between the three still actually facing her. Quake, however, still looked ready to throw something at her. She smiled slightly, shrugging with a playful sigh. "Yeah. Fine. You guys want a trade? I'll do a trade." She paused, glancing at them once again.

Tee shirts and free CD's were obviously not going to work here.

"What... exactly did you guys have in mind?," She inquired, though Dan's roving eyes gave her a good idea as to what his thoughts might have been.

This was. Perfect.
Aside from the method of getting it, she was standing right here. In their doorway, trying to get across that threashhold, trying to get in the room with the men that raged through her mind. Destroyed her dreams. Rocketed her career.
She wanted so badly to get in there.

They wanted sex? That wasn't an issue at all.
"More than 15 minutes, huh, Dan?," She asked in a purr, smirking slightly.

 

[Leopald]

Freddy strode quickly through the backstage, ensuring sound checks had been completed, equipment had been checked, rechecked, and triple-checked, and he wasn't taking any chances. Jimmy should have the boys taken care of, and he wondered idly what they were up to. But he shook that thought as he noticed something amiss.

"Palmer, get your scrawny ass over here, fuckin' twit. What the fuck does this look like to you?" He was motioning at the large black box on the ground, while the wide-eyed, red-haired, freckle-faced kid looked stricken with fear and was running towards him. "No answer? Huh? Looks like a fucking monitor to me. You see that symbol on the tape there? Yeah, that means its the drum monitor. Tell me, fuckwad; what happens when the fucking drummer can't hear the rest of the fucking band 'cause his monitor is backstage? Yeah, that's right! Red-headed little shits get fisted analy by pissed off crowds! Get that shit on stage!"

He stopped just shy of kicking the poor kid square in the pants as he struggled to drag the heavy box away. Stupid shits, these days. Now they had to redo the entire fucking sound check, all because of one snot-nosed brat. Freddy ran both hands through his hair and seethed. Alright. Time to check on the boys, and he knew it. As he strode towards room 9, his eyes found one of the birds from the hotel earlier. She looked lost, and fingering her backstage pass like it was a golden ticket for her chocolate factory.

A quick veer to the right, and he had an arm around her, almost without breaking stride as he guided her towards his own destination. "Hello, love," he started, in an attempt to break the ice, and calm any nerves caused by his sudden appearance. "My name is Freddy. Want to meet the band, do we? Well, right this way, princess..." Fuck, she was a looker.

When they reached the room, and the commotion, Freddy stopped. So much for Jimmy keeping everything under control. He waited outside the room and listened. Quake was trying to get some poor bitch out of her shirt, typical. Then starts screaming at some media whore, and threatening to call security. But before Freddy could step forward, the other blokes started teasing the poor girl. Freddy checked his watch. Two hours, yet.

He came around the corner, new girl in tow, and placed a hand in the middle of the radio-girl's back, pushing her in so he and his prize could get through. He may have pushed a little too hard, as she went face first into Dan's chest...

"Fuck. I leave you fucks alone for two fucking minutes, and you're all ready to gang bang a bitch? You got two hours, make it snappy!" Then he turned to radio girl and offered a sneer. "Freddy "Fingers" Nelson, love. You gotta convince the boys yerself, for any interviews." Then he looked at the girl he dragged in. "And what's your name, precious?"

 

[UnHolyPimpHand]

"Anything" is Possible.

“Anything.”

Such a simple word, but so much potential was held within. Truthfully, it was a hack and slash combination of two words: any-, and thing-, but it opened up a wealth of possibilities that surpassed imagining. Quake was used to hearing it from groupies and fans that all wanted something from him, backstage passes, signatures or pictures. They almost always promised that they would “do anything” to get what they wanted. This sexy, tattooed and pierced journo whore had just made that very same promise now.

Even if the world hadn’t been heaping blessings into Quake’s lap at the moment, he was peaking. The cocaine he’d snorted on the bus was pumping through his system at a million miles a minute. He was sweating profusely and fully erect within his baggy jeans. Red in the face and with veins bulging from his neck, he decided to give the slut a chance.

She ought to have known better, realized that she was painting herself with a wide bulls-eye in this den of snipers. But while most of the others seemed to be wooed by her feminine whiles, eager to explore the most obvious use for her, essentially firing their cocks at the target, Quake was scrambling bombers to drop a nuclear payload on the slag.

“A’right. Let the Journo-whore in. We’ll give ‘er ve in’erview of ‘er fuckin’ loife. Jus’ don’ forget...” Quake added, yanking the woman’s jet-black hair back in his closed fist to whisper in her ear. “You promised to do any’fing. Don’ fink for a secon’ vat I’m gonna let you off easy. You jus’ made you’self me bitch for as long as I please. An’ I’m gonna milk ya. Got it, Journo-slut?”

Before waiting for a reply, Quake shoved the pretty, pierced new “band-bitch” into the dressing room, hanging back for jut a moment to joke about her predicament with his band-mates.

“You boys know va difference between a paedo- and a journo-, do ya?” Quake asked, moving in unison with the other two into the room. “A paedo- knows ‘ow to keep a bloo’y secret!”

Quake didn’t wait to see if the others would laugh, he was moving too fast not to laugh at his own joke. But the laughter quickly died as he entered the dressing room. Seeing Lizzie standing there, looking lost and still fully clothed, Quake snapped away from his band-mates to rush over to her.

“Oi! I fought I tol’ you to lose va soddin’ shirt! Was I no’ clear about vat? Take it off!” Quake demanded, dripping sweat from his brow as he yelled directly into the young, timid girl’s face. “Do wha’ I fuckin’ say or fuck off sharpishly! I can ‘ave you back to bein’ va meat in a “Fat san’wich” so bloo’y quick it’ll make your bleedin’ ‘ead spin!”

Again, there was no time to wait for a reply, no time to wait for compliance. As soon as he ran out of breath, Quake was in front of the vanity mirror. He produced his cherished marble sticks from his back pocket and began “playing” the countertop, thrilled to bang a surface again without the impediment of noise-cancelling drum pads.

CRACK-tacka-tacka-tacka-tacka-tacka-tacka-tacka- CRACK- tacka-tacka-tacka-tacka-tacka-tacka-tacka- CRACK-!

While he drummed the counter like a mad man, Quake observed the room through the lighted mirrors. Inspecting the two little lovelies he had not yet had the pleasure of meeting.

“Oi, Fingers! ‘Oo is vese ova birds? Or did someone or’er Chinese food?” Quake asked, moving on to his next question/demand before anyone even had a chance to process the question. “Where’s va bloo’y booze an’ blow? I need a line an’ e’rybo’y looks much too sober! Geeet some drinks in! Get some drinks in! Get some drinks in! Get some drinks in!”

Quake’s little “Song” he used to sing quite often, built in volume and intensity to a crescendo of belligerent screaming. It was then that the seepage began sliding down the back of his throat. He needed a drink desperately.

“Lizzie, dear. Pick your poison. I’ll drink wif ya, as long as you done what I told ya alre’y.” Quake demanded, making reflective eye contact through the mirror and still drumming, the tempo ever increasing.

 

[fr33ks33k]

Just as Teddy was getting ready to make another snide comment, Freddy showed up, spewing curses and yelling about gangbangs and time management. Two hours to showtime...that should be plenty. Spilling back into the dressing room with the rest of them, Teddy watched as Quake went on one of his coke-induced rapid fire fits. Asking questions without getting answers, drumming on the bloody counter with those loud ass drumsticks and yelling about getting drinks. Laughing at Quake's joke about paedos and journos, he reached down and retrieved the bottle of scotch he'd been drinking earlier.

"I've already started drinkin' mate. Guess I was due for another." with that Teddy downed an especially long swallow of the smooth liquor, the warmth spreading through his throat and into his stomach. Wiping the remnants of the scotch from his lips with the back of his tattooed forearm, he spoke to Quake while looking directly at the girl with the press pass. "Actually, I think she'll be the one doin' the milkin'...."

Turning to look back at the timid redhead, Teddy noticed she'd not moved a muscle since the whole chaotic happening had started. "I'd do wha' 'e says luv...his attention span's not likely to last much longer if ya don't. 'Course I don't think I'd want to waste a fine specimen like yourself before sendin' ya back to the rest of the nutjobs out there...."

Quake's drumming was even louder now, the cracking of marble on marble was reverberating in the small room, and it got a little harder to hear oneself think or speak. Teddy's voice rose a bit to overcome the snapping of the drumsticks on the counter as he asked Eric "You never did answer, who's the asian broad? An' Freddy, that's a nice piece o' tail you got there. By the way, is everything at the hotel square? It better not be like the one in Liverpool! Fuckin' prudish twats...."