The Bed's Too Big Without You

Part 1

Stewart fucking Copeland. If there was one guy you wanted to fuck, it had to be him, jesus christ. There was just something about him that was so irresistibly fuckable. From his soft, bleached locks, to his tall, lean stature, to his long lashes, to his roman carving-esque face; that man was yummier than an apple pie. Stewart was the entire reason you got into The Police, as a matter of fact. Seeing him on the music video for Can't Stand Losing You was enough to make you obsessed with the man. The most depressing thing was that Stewart would be in your town tomorrow night. But guess what the stars granted you. No money. You'd recently been fired from your waiting job for lates and had nothing to your name, which absolutely killed. But there was no hurting trying to sneak in, was there?

'Hey mom. You told me you snuck into The Rolling Stones in the 60s, right? How did you pull it off?' You asked coyly, hoping she wouldn't catch you out on your plan.
'Hmmm... why do you ask?'
'No reason' You replied.
'Well, to start with, there was way less regulation on concerts back then. Secondly, I was a young, pretty girl, so I was pretty much guaranteed entry, and a backstage pass if I wanted, automatically. So it took almost zero effort for me back then. I don't know how it is now, but I know it definitely wouldn't be as easy as it was in the 60s, that's for sure' She answered.

Pretty, hm. I could make that work to my advantage, you thought.
Standing in front of the mirror, you gazed upon your reflection. If I'm going to gain entry based on my appearance, I better look the part, you told yourself. After applying some fuchsia metallic eyeshadow and glitter around your eyes, you decided on your outfit. Around an hour had passed by until you had chosen what to wear: a striped black and white crop top, a fitted red cord miniskirt and green stockings. A quick spritz of Love's Baby Soft and you were ready to make your move. Luckily your mom was at her friend's house for the night, so she wouldn't notice you were gone. And if she found out The Police were playing that night, she would know exactly where you were. Your obsession for Stewart wasn't exactly a secret.

The venue was only a few minutes walk away from your town, so it didn't take long to get there. But when you did, you realised that this ordeal would be a lot more difficult than you thought. Walking up to the ticket checker, you flashed him a cute smile. His response was to stare at you with an emotionless face.
'That shit don't work with me, lady. Where's your ticket' He questioned aggressively.
'I had a backstage pass that Sting gave me from the last tour but I lost it. Please could you get one of the roadies, or Sting himself, and they will recognise me and tell you to let me in' You lied confidently.
'Listen, there's a queue forming behind you, so cough up your ticket or leave'
You turned around to see a long line of people muttering about you, clutching onto their golden tickets. You could try to fight the bouncer or leave. As he was about a foot taller than you, you decided it would sadly probably be best for you to leave.