Frances, also known as Frankie is hired as the Red Hot Chili Peppers assistant. She becomes instant friends with them all, with the exception of John, -who, according to Flea-is just tired.
I often times start Fan Fictions, just to see the reactio...
"Follow me," Lindy directed, leading me through packed hallways. I stayed silent, afraid I'd lose him if I distracted myself.
"Now, theyre Wild. You're positive you can handle them?" Lindy asked, pausing in front of a door. "Of course." I nodded confidently. "All you." He told me, opening the door, then walking away.
They were jumping around, shirts off and hair running wild. One with hair to his tailbone, another with shorter hair dyed green, a tall guy with a baseball cap on and lastly a younger looking boy, with red hair.
"Oh jesus, Flea," the long haired man said, seeing me. "Huh?" The short guy with a gap in his teeth said, whipping around and watching me. "C'mon, who did it?" The long haired one spoke again, looking at his friends. "John?" He accused. The boy with red hair came to a halt, directing his attention to them. "Didn't do it Anthony." He shrugged, though he had no clue what they were talking about.
So the guy with long hair is Anthony, red hair is John, and gap teeth is Flea? Then that leaves- "Chad!" I was snapped out of my thoughts by a tall man in front of me, smiling happily, blue eyes gleaming as he awaited my response. "O-oh, um, yes, hello. I'm Frances. You can call me Frankie." I introduced myself, keeping my head low.
"How much do I owe you, Frankie?" Anthony showed up, digging in his pocked. "Excuse me?" I asked, shocked at his words. "Dude, she's not a fuckin' prostitute!" John wailed, punching Anthony's arm.
Anthony's face dropped. "Oh god, I'm sorry." He said. "It's okay, I guess." I said. "I'm Anthony." He said. "I know."
"I'm Flea." The short guy stepped up, shaking my hand. I was relieved, unlike other bands I had managed, they weren't trying to hug me. The worst band was Aerosmith. Perry was a hugger. Nice guys, but I wasn't into the touchy-feely game.
"John." Anthony said, who had since wandered to his acoustic guitar beside the record player. He jumped at the sound of his name, looking at Anthony.
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"Aren't ya gonna introduce yourself?" Anthony teased. He stared blankly, until Anthony spoke again. "You're not shy are ya?" "Fuck you." John muttered, standing up.
"I'm John, you can call me Fru or whatever." I cocked my brow. Fru? "It's his last name." Anthony explained. "Frusciante." Chad clarified. "Okay..well nice to meet you John." "Is it?" He said softly, stumbling back to the corner.
"He's a little worn out. Forgive 'em." Flea told me quietly. I glanced John's way, his brown eyes peered shyly up at me, unbeknownst to his band mates.
"Alright, well, I'm sure Lindy already told you," "Whoa! Lindy hired you?" Anthony asked rhetorically. "Yeah, um, I'm supposed to be all of yours assistant." I told them. "Ah Cool. You're chill." Chad said.
"Let me guess, time to retreat to the hotel?" Flea asked. "Yes sir," I smiled genuinely for the first time tonight.
"Alright! Lets do it." Anthony said enthusiastically. Anthony led them out, and I waited to make sure they made it out. "You comin'?" Flea asked. "Yeah, just making sure you all make it out alright. You go ahead to the cab, I'll wake sleepy up." I grinned, amused that John had fallen asleep so easily. Flea nodded, corralling the others out.
And there was John, slumped in the corner, one hand laid at his side and the other thrown over the neck of his guitar.
I approached slowly. Maybe I should've let the guys do this? I wasn't sure what kind of person John was. But if there's anyway to get to know this guy, this was the way.
"John," I said softly, trying to pull the guitar from his hands, with no success. "John," I tried again, a little louder. I knelt down beside him, getting a better look at his face. Long eyelashes, defined cheek bones and plump lips. He was handsome, but with an attitude like he had, he wasn't my type.
"Fru." I stated in a normal voice. His eyes fluttered open, but shut again, deciding whatever situation wasn't as important as sleep. "Johnny, we gotta get you to the hotel. Then you can sleep." I explained. He groaned, stretching his limbs and grabbing his guitar as he stood.
"I can hold that, if you'd like." I offered. "Oh nah, don't worry 'bout it Frances." He said sleepily, holding it lazily and close to the floor. I went back and opened the door for him. It was almost funny. He was like a zombie. I glanced at the head stock of the guitar. Martin. There was no way I was letting him drag such a valuable guitar.
I grabbed it swiftly before shutting the door, he didn't even notice and kept walking. I placed my hand in the middle of his upper back and led him out to the cab. Somehow, Anthony had gotten Flea onto his lap, and Chad sat alone. My first instinct was to take the passenger seat, but considering John's state of exhaustion, I'd let him take it, and hold his guitar.
I opened the passenger door for him. "Go on," I ordered. He got in, his head fell back on the headrest and Anthony chuckled. "You gotta hold this, k?" I said, handing him his guitar. "Mhm."
"Mind if I join?" I joked, squeezing in beside Chad. "Not at all," he played along.
