It's a boyband. But...not what you're expecting.
You expect anything else but three boys in skirts rocking the stage with not only their voices but their looks. But apparently you can't be stunning in silence because they've accidentally gotten them...
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The music playing was loud, taking up the whole space with the thumbing from the base in the speaker. A club in the populated city of Las Vegas, lights shining down the street outside. It was crowded, a joint expectation is why they were there. Rumours of a band permanently playing there every few nights had gathered this group to this one location.
The rumours were consistent and relatively the same.
'It's a boy group, but they are fem boys I heard.'
'Apparently the leader, kittycat I think his name is? I heard he's fucking hot. And equally as feisty'
'The guitarist is so cute but so stunning, I saw him the other day. A looker.'
'The drummers a sexy blonde, so pretty in a skirt.'
'The trio are called? Wait what was their name? All I know is they are all hot.'
'They'll be on in 10 minutes you'll see!'
And before long, someone was stepping onto the stage. The room couldn't help but go silent as they watched him walk around.
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He was a blonde, tanned honey skin shinning under the lights of the stage. His pretty chocolate eyes adorned with a pretty shade of black and cami eyeshadow and his lips a pretty shade of pink. He slightly smiled at the crowd as they watched him, dimples showing as he sat down by the murky green drum set. He wore a camouflage tube top, fitting perfectly over his slightly built frame. The tight neckline seemed to push up his chest, a pretty Vivienne Westwood necklace dangling just above it. He wore a short denim miniskirt, a belt detailing seeming to wrap snuggling round his waist in perfect conclusion. As a boy, it was obvious he had huge pecks and a good amount of muscle mass around his biceps, but the illusion of such clothing around his figure just made it more lustful to look at. He wore matching cami new rock boots, the platformed shoes fitting steadily behind the drummer set as he moved to fit in. His ears were decorated with piercings, cross earrings that matched a set of Vivienne Westwoods that seemed to be the same as his necklace. This was the drummer it seemed. The crowd knew his name, his stage name was Vixen.
