Classic Rock Imagines

Johnny Rotten #1

Whew this is a long imagine! But I've been dying to write something like this situation and Johnny Rotten seemed like the perfect dude for it cause holy wow that jawline, and well he's just fantastic tbh. So enjoy and let me know if you want more scenarios like this😉

Being The Sex Pistols manager was exactly how it sounds like it would be. Any other band you managed before was a breeze, but this one, this one was a whole other story.

"Sid will you please just show up on time for once," you said as you frantically ran backstage and tugged him towards the rest of the band, which was supposed to perform a half hour earlier.

You had looked all over for him, determined to find him at least an hour before the show started to earn points from Johnny. Yes, you were his manager, but he intimidated you since nothing you did ever seemed to impress him.

Sid simply groaned in reply as you threw the strap for his bass around him.

"Bloody hell, have you got 'im yet?" Johnny yelled from the stage door, once again seemingly annoyed with you.

You rolled your eyes and pushed Sid towards him. You were done trying to get on his good side. Johnny gave you a frustrated groan before he ran towards the mic to start the show.

"Manager's, am I right?" You heard him say to the crowd before he started the show, glancing ever so slightly to see your reaction.

You never anticipated the lead singer of the band to be the worst part of your job, but it seemed Johnny couldn't be pleased. You tried so hard to get along with him, but he just seemed unappeasable. Any chance he got he was making your job harder, being as difficult as possible and avidly avoiding you for the most part. I mean, this band was a challenge on its own, it only made it worse that he seemed to have such contempt for you.

You let out a sigh as you took your regular seat backstage and waited for the show to finish. You closed your eyes and listened to the muffled roar of guitars and Johnny's voice, smiling to yourself because as chaotic as it may be before hand, they sure as hell pull off a good show. You must've dosed off because when you opened your eyes next the boys were opening the door.

"Slacking off, huh," Sid teased with that little smirk, making you chuckle.

"'No kidding," Johnny murmured as he pushed past you.

Your smile slowly vanished as you felt that tension return in the room. He was really getting on your last nerve.

Sid gave you a sympathetic look, "Hey," he said quietly, "just ignore him, they don't call him Rotten for nothing."

"Thanks, Sid, but I don't think ignoring him is the answer," you said absentmindedly as you marched in the direction Johnny had gone.

"Uh oh," you heard Sid and the other band mates laugh.

He had just slammed the door to his room before you pushed the door back open.

"What the hell-" he started, almost dropping the bottle of whiskey he had just picked up.

"What the hell is your problem?" You said in a heated tone.

He gave you those wide eyes and a smart smirk as he slammed the bottle back down, as if he was more than prepared for this moment, "I beg your pardon, darling?"

"Come on, Rotten, you know exactly what I'm talking about," you said.

"I'm afraid I don't-"

"The rude comments, the nasty looks, making me look unprofessional in front of the audience."