Thread: Her Overlord {Crushed and SilverGrrl}

In the pause between songs, Alice had to catch her breath. Her crazed dancing throughout the night, with an energy that belied her slender physique, had taken its toll, but the tiredness cramping her fingers and toes was not going to stop her enjoying this, the best night of her life, celebrating her birthday with a live gig by her favourite band, the greatest band, Her Overlord. She'd managed to steer clear of the most dangerous part of the crowd and carve out a small space of her own perhaps the people dancing near to her simply hadn't noticed her. For standing at barely five feet and weighing in under 90 pounds, she was not exactly an imposing specimen. It was hard to believe she and Ricky Kain were even of the same species. Hard to believe for anyone but her, at least for when she saw him up there on stage, singing those lyrics that brought protests and criticisms wherever he toured, she felt a connection that seemed to energise every cell of her petite body. It sparked again now as she almost felt as though his eyes had met hers for a fleeting moment and then a new song began. She was off again, dancing with a passion that sent her long hair, normally a smooth, silky waterfall that trailed almost to her slim waist, now into a long frenzied whirl of black, whipping around her as she shouted along to the lyrics at the top of her soft, feminine voice. Her make-up, highlighting her prominent cheekbones, dashes of deep purple around her eyes, had withstood the packed heat and the physical exertion of dancing admirably. Her arms, encased from wrist to elbow in long, black lace fingerless gloves and weighed down by dozens of bright bracelets, waved above her her flat, toned midriff, bared beneath the hem of her tightly cropped tank top, contorted, causing her navel piercing to flash in time with the arena lights. A hand gripped her slender shoulder and she wheeled out of its grip it wasn't unusual for the odd grope or pat, accidental or not, to be directed her way, but she would usually evade them to concentrate on enjoying the music but this time, the hand followed, persistently, and she turned her dark eyes up to find the pressing source, her youthful face for a moment showing a flash of fear when she recognised the security badge. Had she done something wrong? Was she about to be ejected? The imposing man spoke, but his words were completely lost beneath the noise of the band, so instead she allowed herself to be towed after him through the thronging crowd over to a side door. He disappeared for a moment and she was left to anxiously wait, fidgeting in distraction by pulling up one of her brightly coloured thigh high stockings that had fallen down, readjusting one of the silver necklaces that hung around the bare, pale white skin of her thin neck. Then he reappeared, and she began gnawing her lip in angst. Hey...Alice, he said, this time just audible. Mr. Kain would like to offer you a free tour backstage. If the anxiety of not knowing what was about to happen had been bad, the anxiety of now knowing what might was even worse. Led into a backstage corridor, the music so loud that the equipment scattered on the floor was rattling with reverb, she rubbed her hands together anxiously, glancing this way and that. Passing roadies paid her no attention and she was led to a huge door, emblazoned with a simple KAIN tag, outside which she waited. The security guard retreated, and after a couple of the most heart-stopping moments of her life, the music from the arena faded out. Perhaps the gig was at an end. Perhaps her night was just beginning.