•••••••••••••••••••••••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: French Actress Emmanuelle Béart Musician: American Musician and Drummer of KISS, Eric Carr Time: Mid Eighties
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[Request]
If there was ever a fight that was worth it, it was surely that one. She was just another face in the endless crowd, easily lost among the endless other brunette heads and made-up faces. That was what she thought, at least.
Her name was Erin. She was at a KISS concert, one she'd been saving up for for weeks. They were her favorite band, and she had to admit that she had a special liking for a particular curly-haired percussionist. The band walked on stage ready to rock, but at least two hours behind schedule.
It was the dead of night when the show finally started, and with the beginning note, their tardiness was forgiven by the full and eager crowd. The show was now quickly nearing its end, and a budding anxiety was radiating through Erin's chest. It was in part from the sheer amount of people, and also due to the pair of eyes that were laser focused on her.
There was a guard shoving through the crowd towards the back wall, his gaze realigning itself with her after every violent push. She'd seen Eric Carr, their drummer, say a thing or two to him a little while back, but assumed it was related to the concert itself. Now she was starting to worry that he'd told the guard to surveillance the crowd, and that she'd get kicked out. Although she hadn't done anything, her anxiety grew the faster the man approached. He was burly and stale-faced, his facial hair giving the appearance of a perpetual frown.
The amplifiers shook the building with the bass of Eric's drum. A somewhat terrified Erin suddenly found herself wishing for a cigarette in her shaking right hand, despite the fact that she didn't smoke. She opted to comb that trembling digits through her hair, her leather fingers slicing through her silky brown mane like butter.
It took her only the next few seconds to accept that the guard was undoubtedly coming for her. The song hadn't even reached the chorus yet, and Erin didn't have the heart to book it out the door before the end of the concert. Her left hand tightened around her glossy cane, all of her efforts piled into keeping up the facade that she didn't see guard hurdling towards her. But of course, you can only ignore something for so long.
"Hey there! Black coat!" He boomed, his voice deep, gruff and projected. As if she had no control over her head, it snapped up and in his direction, her eyes bulging in what had to have been terror.
There was no attempt from Erin to respond. She figured he was going to finish whatever mission he was so determined to complete regardless of what she said. She felt his feet thump against the ground as he took his final few steps towards her, stopping uncomfortably close by her side. He reeked of booze and she could smell his abundance of cheap cologne as he leaned in towards her ear. The girl held her breath in hopes to prevent a splitting headache, but was nagged by the fear of him noticing.
