ೃ⁀➷ ❝ You're in the [ 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐝 ], I'm in the [ 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 ]. Nobody's [ 𝐬𝐨𝐧 ], nobody's [ 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 ]. ❞ - Lana Del Rey
Sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll. Violet Vienna and Nikki Sixx, two broken halves, who fit perfectly. Although they claime...
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"𝗪𝗘 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗖𝗜𝗡𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔!" 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗗 singer panted as the rest of the band was laughing, holding their arms up in the air.
I grinned, shaking my head. They were good, different in a way. I liked it.
"What do you think?" Jon chuckled, looking over at me with a wide smile.
"They're good, they deserve to be signed." I nodded, my eyes remaining on the stage even as they left. Jon softly grabbed my wrist, leading me through the crowd, towards backstage.
We slowly made it backstage, there was maybe one security guard—who let us through without batting an eye. As Jon and I continued down the hallway, we heard yelling and laughing behind a door—which read "Cinderella" on the door. Jon cocked his head before knocking on the door.
It was a minute before someone answered the door. A guy with brown fluffy hair answered the door—whom I recognized as the guitarist—his jaw dropped as Jon softly chuckled.
"I'm assuming you know who we are?" He laughed, standing outside the door. The guy slowly nodded, with wide eyes.
"Can we come in?" I giggled, shaking my head as I pointed to the door. The rest of the band seemed occupied as they kept on chatting.
He nodded, quickly stepping aside. Jon walked in the room first, earning the attention of everyone—I followed quickly after.
"Holy shit." One of them spoke, the blondie in particular. I snickered, shaking my head before extending my hand.
"Violet Vienna, but I'm pretty sure you already know who we are." I laughed, as the blondie took my hand—shaking it.
"Of course we know who you are- I mean, I'm Eric Brittingham." He stuttered, quickly covered his mistake as I grinned—nodding my head and moving to the next in line.
It was the guy that answered the door, I kept my hand out as he took it instantly.
"Jeff Labar." He grinned happily, "I'm a big fan." I giggled, nodding my head in appreciation.
"Thank you." I laughed, moving onto the next. Another brown haired boy, he took my hand, shaking it softly.
"I'm Fred Coury." Fred smiled, letting my hand go. Finally, I moved onto the last band member.
The front man of the group.
I recognized Fred as the drummer, Jeff as the guitarist and Eric as the bassist—the last one was the lead singer, along with guitarist.
He was the tallest out of the bunch, I actually had to look up at him. I extended my hand—as he took my hand—shaking it delicately.
"Tom Keifer." He smiled, a few things I noticed about him...
Number one.
He had an amazing voice. It was super raspy, deep, it was incredible.
Number two.
He was a great front man—he knew how to entertain a crowd.
And number three.
He was sort of...beautiful in a way. I don't mean that in a weird way, just—the whole band in general.
I smiled, nodding at them all as Jon took his turn to shake their hands.
"Now, Gene Simmons told me to come check out your band. He said y'all were pretty good, and he wasn't fuckin' lying." Jon laughed as the band finally expressed an emotion other than shock. They laughed, shaking each other's hands.
"Now, Jon and I decided..." I pulled a cigarette out of my jacket pocket, lighting it swiftly. "We are gonna try to get you guys signed." I took a drag of my cigarette as they all cheered.
I grinned, shaking my head as Jon snickered. We waited for their cheering to die down—they were still giggling—laughing their asses off.
"Holy shit, this is insane. We have two fucking rockstars in our dressing room right now!" Jeff pointed out with a grin, I laughed—shaking my head.
"You guys got a phone in here?" I exhaled the smoke from my mouth looking around, they nodded to a corded phone on the wall.
"Ah." I approached the phone, dialling Barry's number. Jon and I were both signed to the same record company, Mercury Records, which was apart of Polygram Records. So the first person I was going to talk to about signing them—was Barry.
"Hello?" He asked the phone—obviously confused as hell.
"Hey Barry, it's Violet." I laughed, I heard him snicker through the line.
"Ah, hey Violet. What's up." He chuckled through the phone, as I heard him inhale—probably taking a drag of a cigarette.
"Nothing much...just need help getting a band signed." I grinned, I heard his jaw drop through the phone. I felt the guys' eyes on me—watching my every move.
"What do you mean?" Barry snorted.
"I mean exactly what I said. Jon and I flew out to Philadelphia, saw this band called Cinderella. And they're good, like really good. The label could use them." I stated, I was determined to get them signed. I needed to get them signed. They had real talent.
"...Jesus Christ, Violet." He groaned through the phone, I stayed silent with a grin. I knew he would give in.
"Fuck, fine. I'll send a record executive to Philadelphia tomorrow, okay?" He sighed into the phone, I could just picture it—him rubbing his temples, smoking a cigarette.
I giggled, jumping happily.
"Okay, thank you." I grinned, hanging up the phone—turning back to the rest of the band.
"I'm betting a hundred that you guys are getting signed within the next few days." I smiled widely, placing the cigarette back in between my lips.
"Wait, what?" The blonde one—uh...Eric I think—grinned softly.
"You heard me." I shrugged with a cheeky smirk, exhaling the smoke.
"I wasn't even needed." Jon laughed, shaking his head.
"Nope, I'm just the label's favourite, they can't say no to me." I patted his shoulder, comfortingly as I teased him.
"You're a fucking god." Fred laughed, lugging an arm around my shoulder. "Now who wants to go fuckin' celebrate?!" He yelled as the rest of us hollered, slowly piling out of the dressing room.
Tom and I were the last to get out, I sent him a nod as he smiled at me.
— 𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗬 𝗦𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗡 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･
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