•••••••••••••••••••••••Requests Open!••••••••••••••••••••••••
Will update upon receiving requests. Check chapter cleverly titled "⭐️Requests Open!⭐️" for more details (it's the 10th chapter!)
You can never have too many classic rock one shots, can y...
Muse: German-American Actress and Singer Marlene Dietrich Musician: English Singer/ Songwriter & Singer of Led Zeppelin, Robert Plant Time: Early Seventies
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Wicked and bewitching — the enticing cinematographer Jenelle. Not rude or nasty, but rather cold, and not one to be messed with. She'd made quite the name for herself in the art of obscure film, and had been called upon by none other than Peter Grant to capture the likes of Led Zeppelin on stage.
Peter and the band had introduced themselves to the seasoned film-master over an extravagant lunch that last Tuesday. The heavyset manager had flown Jenelle in all the way from New Zealand, and on his own dime, which greatly surprised the four musicians. They began to theorize that Peter secretly fancied Jenelle, as she was closer in age to him than she was to the band.
Despite their speculations, Peter remained strictly professional. He was nice enough, although the woman found him slightly tyrannical. The one called John Paul Jones was friendly, but mostly uninvolved. As for the other John — Bonham, it was — well, he was a sweet as a cherry pie; a real motormouth, too. The dark haired fellow, Jimmy Page, seemed rather intrigued by her works, as his eyes lit up with curiosity whenever she delved into her creative process. And last but certainly not least: the curly headed blond, Robert Plant. He seemed the naturally flirtatious type, twirling his hair with a smirk and giving her eyes at every given chance.
Jenelle took it with a grain of salt.
The six of them now found themselves sitting around backstage, waiting for the show to finally start. Born and reared in mid 30's Germany, Jenelle was dressed quite rigidly; both unwilling and uninterested in unlearning the fashion formalities she'd been brought up with.
Always tie or set your hair, only smoke the skinniest of cigarettes, and always wear your stockings — either tan or black.
The tweed skirt suits, witch heels, and film noir hats made her look like a cartoon villain; something that she enjoyed very much. She sat with her film camera resting in her lap, vaguely amused by the pre-show antics of the performers. Her ankles were crossed, seeing as the twill fabric of her narrow, peacock blue skirt didn't permit her legs to separate.
She smacked her mauve-painted lips together, craving a smoke but wanting to save it as a treat for after the show had finished. After all, she only had one left in the silver cigarette case idling in the internal pocket of her double-breasted sports jacket.
As a distraction, she directed her attention to the imminent performance. She thought maybe she should go back into the lighting booth and make sure they'd followed her instructions; overhead lighting, gentle and pale. Or what about double-checking with the sound crew, making sure the mics are all properly set up. How about pop-quizzing the rookie cameramen on her directions?
Suddenly, a slightly raspy yet light male voice interrupted her prospects.
"Your other cameramen are already in the crowd?" Questioned the fair-haired Englishman. Jenelle's icy blue eyes drifted up to meet Robert's from under the brim of her floppy black hat. He stood a good distance away from her, hands on his hips and head cocked to his right.
