rule number three

we'll never be here again

take it easy - the eagles

Robbie smiled contently, her jet black hair flowed freely in the wind, her finger tips graced the cool la air, she sang softly to her favourite song blasting through the tinny speakers as they drove down hollywood boulevard. On either side of her slim figure sat Tommy and Nikki, her friends and band mates, each smoking Marlboros, nursing last nights hangover. Driving the blood red convertible was the bands manager, none other than Cherry Campbell, a surprisingly young yet successful woman who was the only person capable of controlling the band. To her right sat Dave, the bands guitarist and Robbies best friend, who chuckled softly at her childish joy.
'I fucking love my life!', Robbie shouted with glee, 'You hear that LA, I FUCKING LOVE MY LIFE', removing her t-shirt in the process, leaving her in only a cream bralette and black booty shorts. Robbie continued in this vain as Cherry drew into their destination, a parking lot just off Melrose. In front of the group stood two large tour buses, decked out with all the drugs, drinks and kit their hearts could ever want. Yet as Cherry turned off the engine and turned around in her seat, a tense atmosphere set across the car.

'This is a very important tour guys, you're unbelievably lucky to get this opportunity and it's all thanks to me,' Robbie rolled her eyes with affection, having been scolded by Cherry pretty much everyday since they were 11, 'Which means you will all behave yourselves and not paint me in a bad light.'
'Yes mum', sang Robbie, who was wholeheartedly distracted by the day ahead of her, practically itching to leave the car.
Cherry snapped her fingers at Robbie, gaining her attention, 'I'm deadly serious Robbie, you will be on your best behaviour', scowling at the young girl.
'Hey! How come your only telling me this, Tommy's just as bad as me, he's always in trouble, so is Nikki and...' speaking rapidly and almost hysterically, 'and, well Daves boring so i guess it doesn't apply to him', she sunk lower into her seat, knowing she had just proved Cherry's point.

'There will be strict rules you will all adhere to, but yes Robbie, they mostly apply to you.'
'Rule number one', the red-headed woman began, 'clothes will remain on at all times, I don't want to see any photos in Rolling Stone of any of you in compromising positions.' Whilst she was speaking, Dave passed Robbie her t-shirt, wanting to set a good precedent for the coming months.

'Rule number two, there will be no fights, sly comments or attitude.', looking pointedly at Robbie as her friend's chuckled, despite her unusually jovial mood, Robbie was known for being harsh, cutting and having absolutely no filter. She could be credited with starting fueds with Jon Bon Jovi, after claming his dancing and singing were 'a crime to rock and roll', she had publicly bashed Steven Tyler claiming his dubious relationships with young women were downright embarrassing, and that Bret Michaels looked more like a woman than she did, to name a few.

'And rule number three, no kissing, dating or having a romantic relationship with ANYONE in a band.' Robbie simply snorted, 'What if Tommy thinks Lars is realllllly cute', quirking her eyebrows and batting her lashes towards Cherry, who was not amused. Robbie truly did find the notion of her dating anyone in Metallica ridiculous. 'I can promise you that won't be a problem, im not dating rockstars anymore, I need a real man, not a dancing freak who cares more about his hair than women.' Nikki laughed loudly, 'Yeah yeah we'll see how long that lasts.' Cherry leaned forward to smack Nikki, cursing him out for trying to aggravate Robbie. But Robbie was paying him no mind, she had jumped gracefully out of the car, her blood red converse scraping the floor as she darted towards the Metallica bus, searching for trouble. Her final words nothing but 'Rule number three applies to you too right Cherry?'