Thread: Rocker Versus Writer (Cherry Shithead x AeonTralion)

The Shitheads wandered off stage, Bradley was practically begging for a needle, the way he scratched his arm. Lucas didn't like being ignored, but he'd expectd as much. Fuckers. He made a note of Bradley with a smile. 'Bradley Junkie' He set the notepad on the table, pulled out his phone, and flicked open an app. Better safe than sorry... Ten minutes later, he made his way backstage, pushing a beer bottle into the bouncer's hand as he flashed his press badge. In all his years as a writer, this two-hit combo had never let him down. The bouncer took the beer, his eyes swung over the badge, and he cocked his head up, nodding in approval. Dressing room's over there, that guy will show you to them, just follow him. Lucas nodded and did as he was told. The walk was short, past all the busted lights and worn steel that places like this accumulated over the years, naturally. Like dirt on a tomb. Finally, his little liaison, Sam, reached a door and pounded on it. Beyond the door, Lucas heard only yelling. He was losing his patience, and he glared at Sam to alert him. The shock of crimson fell over his right eye, and he brushed it back behind his ear. Listen, Sam, if I'm not wanted I'll leave, but this shit's important. Take the article or leave it, your call, but make it. Sam turned and tried again. This time, he got a response from that blonde banshee, no doubt. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT? Sam winced, obviously getting a bit pissed. He took a breath, trying to hide his anger from Lucas. Cherry you have a visitor. Lucas raised a brow, producing his notepad again. Not now man, he heard her call back. Lucas's gaze narrowed at Sam. He scrawled on a blank sheet 'TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT,' then showed it to Sam and shrugged defiantly. He watched Sam sweat, then turn back to the door. He says its important. Both Sam and Lucas waited for a reply, but Lucas was on the verge of walking out. He hoped Miss Cherry didn't expect a good review. When the reply finally came, Lucas could only shake his head and laugh angrily. Fine. Fuckin... whatever. Lucas pushed past Sam, not even willing to acknowledge the spineless oaf now. He opened the door and strode inside, mp3 recorder still pinned to his red lapel, next to his loose black tie. He adjusted his red glasses and swept his eyes over the degenerate crowd. He tapped his pen against his notebook, where he'd written a few keywords for confirmation. He circled 'bong,' and 'heroin,' along with anything else that stood out, but he was surprised to not find a bunch of groupie sluts here to keep the boys entertained. His gaze settled on Cherry not three seconds after entering. He smiled professionally and shifted his weight. Cherry, right? Lucas Fyll, Rockgasm blog, magazine, et cetera. They sent me here to do a promotional piece on your band, his eyes shifted pointedly to the paraphernalia. You guys seem comfortable. Got a minute? He yanked over a metal stool and sat pointedly on it. He didn't wait for an answer to his previous question. The quicker he got his answers, the quicker he could go the hell home. When did you guys form, who are your biggest influences, when does the album drop? He asked blandly, looking into her eyes with icy indifference.