Living Like A Runaway

She's Got Balls...

It had been years since I had been to the ever-fabulous Panther Mansion, but, of course, I was never disappointed. As soon as you walked in, you were greeted with the epitome of glam rock, animal print and all. There was a giant TV room and leather couch, a kitchen with a fully stocked bar, an instrument room, gaming room, songwriting office, home studio, balcony, outdoor patio with a jacuzzi, pool, garden and wood-burning pizza oven and grill, and five bedrooms with their own walk-in closets, full bathroom, and vanity, among other things. The Mansion was normally trashed as hell because of their parties, but I assumed the guys knew they'd be moving their fun to their other house in upper Hollywood. This house was more for show than anything else.

"Beautiful, ain't it?" Dad commented, noting my states of awe. I nodded quietly, taking my bag, absolutely mesmerized by the amount of beauty that such a band could have in a house. "Now, the guys tried to clean up, so if it looks half-assed, ignore it." I laughed and rolled my eyes, as my dad opened the door. And to both our surprise, the house was absolutely pristine. "Well, fuck," dad mentioned, "Must've called the cleaning lady, there's no way they got this done by themselves!"

Just then, the three missing members of Steel Panther popped out from behind the couch. "Surprise!" They all yelled in unison, making me jump. I laughed however, immediately rushing into Stix Zadinia's arms. I hugged him, Satchel, and Lexxi Foxx in turn, ignoring my dad's comments for them to take their hands off my ass. I was just glad to see them. "Fuck," Satchel noted with a grin, "Someone's all grown up... Damn."

"Thanks, Satch," I replied laughing. Dad rolled his eyes, and I could tell he was going to give his band a mouthful of rules like he had with me. "Anyway..." I trailed to ignore the tension, "The house looks gorgeous!" And it did. Dad was probably right, they probably did have the maids do it, but I was impressed they put in any effort at all. Hopefully, it would stay that way.

Stix chuckled. "Fuck, thank the cleaning service." Well, that answered that question. "C'mon, I'll show you where your room is." I followed him up the stairs, leaving my dad to have a talk with his bassist and guitarist. "He knows I wouldn't try anything," Stix said once we made it up to the second story. "You've always been my little sister, Mel, you know that." I hugged him again, smiling as he then led me to my room. It was true, Stix had always been the older brother I never had.

My room was a Rock Princess paradise. The walls were painted a pinkish-purple, just waiting to be covered in all my posters. There was a stylish leopard-skin carpet across the hardwood floor, leading up to the king-sized canopy bed draped in purple. Every piece of furniture and accessory supported the theme, which corresponded to the bathroom and walk-in closet, which had been given a few outfits to go with the stuff in my suitcase. My room was the closest to the balcony, on the left.

"I'll leave you to unpack, then," Stix told me. I nodded and thanked him, and then I was on my own. Everything in my suitcase merged with my pre-existing outfits, clothes, jewelry, and extremely extensive collection of makeup. All my posters were hung up, records and CDs put away, and the lot. It was 4pm, what would be 7pm in Eastern Standard Time, when I was finished. Something told me the jet lag would be hitting me later.

When I walked downstairs, I could already tell the boys were in the studio; there was dead silence. There was always some sort of background noise at least, unless they were recording. For a not-so-serious band with a not-so-serious lifestyle, they took the creative process pretty damn seriously. At least it gave me time on my own though. So, I decided to start wandering around the house. I ended up in their instrument room. A variety of drum kits, guitars, basses, and microphones and such were kept in here, for whatever occasion the boys wanted. They took most of this on tour.