Under My Thumb // Mick Jagger

007

🌸MICK'S POV🌸

"Cut it, Keith," I say, interrupting the song we were playing and making my way off the stage. "Keith! Cut it," I repeat myself when he continues the riff to "Route 66," too involved in his music to hear me the first time.

The music stops and make eye contact with Ria, who all of the sudden looked fearful. I wasn't upset with her, though. I was upset with the bartender who stood behind her and dropped some sort of drug in her drink while she wasn't looking.

I make my way down the stage and through a portion of the crowd to get to her. I grab her upper arm tightly, forcing her to stand up from the bar stool. "Go wait in the back, m'kay?" I whisper in her ear. I watch her face flush as almost every pair of eyes in the silent room focused on either Ria or me. I knew she hated the attention of everyone in the room on her, especially considering she could barely stand the attention of the other guys on her, but I had to address what was going on—and there was no other way to do it besides stopping the show and getting Ria away from this man.

"But—" she starts to protest but is quickly cut off by me.

"Maria, I'm not asking you again," I tell her sternly. Her full name sounded weird coming from me. I liked it better when I called her Ria, but I figured using her full name would make her comply more easily.

Ria opens her mouth to start her complaints again, but, this time, I don't even let her start speaking.

"Don't be stubborn with me, please. Now, go backstage," I demand, the grip I held on her arm tightening as I grew impatient with the situation.

She continued to sit there, scared, confused, and, of course, stubborn.

"Ria, c'mon, I've got a show to play," I say. My grip loosens just a little and my voice became less tense, but I was still on edge.

"I know you do," she say as she pushes my hand off herself and starts walking to the back as I had directed her to do. "I was watching." Her voice came off sour, but I understood. She didn't know I wasn't mad at her, but I really didn't have the time to explain that to her until after the show.

//

I finish the last half of our set, trying my best to hold back the anger I quickly developed for that bartender. I didn't want Ria to think I was mad at her—because I wasn't—but I could tell she did by the way she walked off.

I start walking off the stage once the crowd disperses and toward the room backstage when Bill stops me. "Something happen?" he asks as he starts unplugging his bass and wrapping the cord around his hand.

"The bartender..." I glance over my shoulder to see the bartender talking with another customer with a friendly smile on his face, acting like he hadn't just been trying something with Ria. "He was putting something in Ria's soda," I tell him. Just saying that out loud made my blood boil. No one is going to put there hands on Ria, especially not some creepy bartender.

I don't bother waiting for Bill's reply and walk through the door to get backstage. My eyes immediately land on Ria, who sat in a chair with her knees pulled up to her chest and my jacket over her legs. She had her head buried in knees to hide her face.

Keith was kneeling down in front of her, probably trying to talk to her. But, knowing how anxious she can get, I knew she wouldn't actually be able to listen to him. She must have a million thoughts running through her head.

"Ria," I say her name as calmly as I can as I walk over to her and Keith and take a seat on the floor in front of her. She keeps her head down, ignoring me. "Ria, I know you're in there," I joke with her, though I probably shouldn't have considering she obviously wasn't in the mood to be joked with.