Those Bloody Tears

Chapter Two

   "Oh, Andykins, do me first," I shouted in a singsong voice waving our new makeup artist over. He had just waltzed into the dressing room the band shared, toting his makeup bag.

            "Umm, okay," he said blushing. His small comfort level with me had apparently already diminished since last week. He set his supply case on the vanity and began shifting through the various items, picking out the things he needed use on me. I knew squat about makeup so he could be using that bird s*** the Chinese use.

            He finally got his s*** together and stepped in front of me. I debated on whether to grab his crotch or not. But then I got a better idea. Seeing how I like to do the most obscene things possible, I reached out and unzipped his pants in one swift motion.

            He squealed adorably and jumped back swatting my hand away. "Don't," he hissed quietly and zipped his pants back up. A deep blush ravaged his cheeks and I’m not going to lie, I loved it. I had a feeling it was something I would soon get used too. As long as he didn’t quit.

            He stepped closer to me and I batted my long a** eyelashes, the picture of innocence before saying, "I said, ‘do me’ first."

            He blushed again and tried applying eyeliner to my lid, but I intervened by trying to stick my hand down his pants. I wasn’t actually going to do it, just wedge my hand in his waist band, but he didn’t know that. He rocked back on his heels and squealed again causing me to smirk. I was right. He was fun to watch get all hot and bothered. "Please don't," he pleaded.

            "You got it, Engel," I said, flashing a perfect smile at him, forgetting he knew absolutely no German what so ever. I was so used to people bending to my will to suite me. One reason why I didn’t get along with Candi well. It was strange having fresh meat around.

            "What?" He asked cocking his brow slightly, unsure. He shifted his stance to convey his confusion.

            "Angel," I said simply, letting the word roll of my tongue. It came so natural, yet it was a pet name I had only reserved for my first real boyfriend. But that was plenty of lays ago.

            He blushed a bright crimson and bent over me trying to finish up, but I couldn’t have that so I grabbed his crotch causing him to do two things, one; immediately harden, and two; rock back on his heels for the third time. He blushed profusely, shaking his head, and pleaded with his eyes. It was süß. (sweet.) I decided to be good after that.

            I used my index finger to draw an imaginary halo above my head and then crossed my arms over my chest. I muttered, "Spielverderber,” (spoilsport) under my breath.

            He timidly stepped in front of me again, his body rigid, and I decided to give him a break by not harassing his pants again. I couldn’t drive him off the first day, or I would blow off all the fun. He busied himself over my face, moving like a buzzing bee, and finished quickly.

"All done," he said blushing, stepping back to check his work. When he was sure he was satisfied he moved on to the other members. I sat back watching in amusement as he did the other’s makeup. No one else messed with him while he worked over them, his junk right in front of them. I don’t know how they did it. I would have been going to crazy.

            After Korey was finished being made up, he walked over to me. Disapproval was written all of his face. I didn’t really want to hear what he had to say, but it didn’t matter what I thought because when he wanted to be, Korey was a force to be reckoned with. “That's not even right, what you did to the poor kid. He was afraid every one of us was going to grab him too. I actually felt sorry for him.”

            I looked at him impatiently not giving a s*** and then smirked. “He'll be fine.”

            Korey shook his head probably in disgust. "Do you even like him at least?"

            I shrugged looking bored. I hated how even though Korey had more tattoos than me, he still acted like the bands mother.  "He is pretty knackig, (crisp) but you know I'm more of a one night stand guy."

            "Don't lead him on then, Mr. One-nightstand," he said harshly, his tone sharpening on his last words. He even did the cliché chest poking.

            "Why do you care?" I asked annoyed. Why was it even his problem to care? He didn’t know the kid any better than I did.

            He shrugged. "I know I don't like it when girls lead me on. Besides, I actually had a conversation with him instead of grabbing at his balls."

            I tried not to laugh at what he said and failed miserably. "But he's so fun to mess with," I protested more seriously.

            "Okay, whatever. I have to get dressed. Just don’t hurt him or I’ll hurt you. See you in a little bit."

            "Yeah, whatever. Later," I said giving him the finger with both hands behind his back. Yeah, mature, right? That’s me. Mr. Maturity-slash-Mr. One-nightstand.

            I sat there plotting new ways to make him squirm, while I was getting my hair done. I came up with nothing. Usually, I can think of the most obscene things like that. But I drew a blank over and over again. I kept coming up with nothing more than swat-worthy, which was pathetic. I wanted a real reaction. I just couldn’t figure out what the mental block was. It could have just because of the stupid spielverderber, (spoilsport) Korey and it probably was.

            I was forced to stop thinking about torturing Andy once I made it to the stage. I had more important things to think about like the giant bra that was sling-shotted right into my chest. Or things like when security had to carry the bra slinging girl off of the premises. I also had to concentrate on my singing, and the night’s variation of the speech that I always gave before singing It Redeems.

--

            “Oh! Em! Gee! It’s Maxxie Basse!” a skinny little blonde screamed.

           We were, not so stealthily, sneaking out of the venue, when a group of girls spotted and ravaged us. The whole flock of them grabbed at us, our crotches mostly, with me getting the worst of it. And I’m not going to lie; I loved every moment of it. So much so I picked the blonde and told her to call me later.

            I thought she was going to have a coronary. She practically started hyperventilating when she saw that all ten digits were in here phone. I smirked at her as she kept looking at the numbers over and over again. She was probably going to call everyone in her contacts and tweet that she was going to have sex with the Maxxie Basse, the lead singer of TBT. I realized a little too late that it might have been a mistake to give her my number, but I shook my head in amusement and continued on with the band to our ride.

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Decided to do the translateations in paranthesis because it was annoying to go all the way to the end to find them. ALso if someone wants to beta or whatever for me it would be super great.