𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐀 彡 [n. sixx] [✔]

𝔣𝔬𝔲𝔯!

✧･ﾟ: 𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩𝔰 𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢, 𝔟𝔬𝔶𝔰...𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔞 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤!

There was this blank look within the depths of Tanya's pupils as she observed the four male rockstars leisurely stroll into the studio room that was specifically reserved for the members of Vicious Ventura. The couch that was near the mixing board next to the recording booth served as a spot of occupancy for Tanya and her bandmates as all three of them studied each one of the guys carefully—the image of the three of them sitting on the furniture with such distrust and unease could easily be equated to a group of cats arching their backs and hissing at newcomers.

Tanya's left foot was propped up on the scratched leather material of the busted-up couch, as she coolly leaned her back into the overly soft cushion. Her dirty boot was putting even more scuff marks on the couch, but it had seen better days anyway. One more stain wouldn't be the end of the world. And as the blonde watched Mötley Crüe invade Vicious Ventura's personal musical lair, she also had time to take in the proud, shit-eating grin on Bernardino's face as he ushered the guys inside with utmost optimism and respect. He acted as if these assholes were royalty and deserved the world.

From Tanya's perspective, they weren't anything special. Frankly, she hadn't even listened to any of their new tracks because she couldn't dare to step down from her high horse and give into listening to their newly released album or singles. In fact, during the mere moment that a song from them was being played on the radio, Tanya reached over to violently shut it off, and huff about having to put up with this shit. These guys made Tanya's skin crawl for so many reasons that she could honestly write a well-summarized five-page essay on them and read it to them just to make herself feel better.

The blondie watched Bernardino send her bandmates a quick smile matched with a seemingly condescending wink as he slipped out of the studio and closed the door behind him. Milani—while continuing to sit on the arm of the rickety couch right next to Tanya—churned out a sour grimace, a heavy feeling setting up a nice little picnic within the confines of her stomach due to the boss man's facial expression. The Osaka native didn't want to believe that Bernardino was just setting them up like this without even saying some last words of wisdom before letting Mötley Crüe just confidently step onto their turf and ransack their shit like how the lanky guy with a pair of heavy-duty industrial drumsticks was doing, opening cabinets that didn't belong to him and whispering to the tall raven-haired guy with the jawline of a Greek God who seemed like nothing more than an enigma. Milani just couldn't fathom the fact that Bernardino was using them for financial purposes.

The drummer girl should've seen it coming considering Tanya had been babbling about all the despicable actions that their boss had committed—not just to them, but other bands Crown Music owned as well. Milani Kamiyama felt fucking dumb and used for putting her complete trust in a man like Bernardino. He was only in it for the sweet, hard cash and nothing more. Looking back, all those compliments and sweet talks that Milani received from the chubby man were in an effort to butter her up and gain her allegiance for moments like these.