Changing the Stars (On Hiatus)

Chapter Three: Sab

Sab paced back and forth in his dressing room. 

It was a small room, a couch on one side, a vanity on the other. The seating was faded from all the people who had preformed before Sab, leaving greyish-white spots glowing in contrast to black faux leather. A small closet sat in the wall with his normal clothes and extra changes of his leather, sexy, and too-tight clothing he would play in. 

The vanity was was black, a large mirror and lights brightening it up, enlarging it's beauty. Multiple powders and brushes and colognes and phone numbers littered it's dark top. Sab picked up one of the numbers that was scribbled on a hello kitty post-it and stared at it for a long time. Eventually, he took out his lighter and placed the tip of the thin, moving, orangy-white flame at the base of the light pink paper and watched as it blackened. The golden light traveled quickly, eating up the useless digits written in hot pink ink. Why did girl insist on giving him cutesy things? 

He dropped the paper in the trash can and searched his pockets for cigarettes.

Out.

Dammit.

He sighed, searching around the room for his wallet he needed to buy some more. He had about twenty minutes until hair and makeup would arrive in his room. He had time. He grabbed his hoodie and threw it on, pulling the hood up and turning down the hall towards the crowded bar. He traced his hand along the wall that was covered in spray-painted burlap. It was now purple. It used to be black.

When the burlap ended, he turned and struggled through the crowd, listening to the gossip.

"I hear that Jordan is gay." One girl whispered to her friend. She was sexy in her short, black dress and black pumps, standing with a hand on one hip.

Sab laughed to himself at the ridiculous accusation the girls made. It wasn't Jordan who was gay, no. It was Xander. The bassist. The guy that all the girls gushed about. When he was away from fans, he was gayer than anything. He was the stereotypical gay, talking about boys and clothes and everything else. It was like having a girl in your band without being able to bang her. 

Sab exited the bar.

He tip-toed past Dave, the bouncer, and then started his steady walk down the street to the convenience store, passing the homeless men on the corner and the famous club "Dock". Burning the Stars was about to become a sensation. They were going to be evaluated by a man from an agency. They were going to be debated as one of the bands to open up for Hectic Salvation, a popular band with a hot lead singer and, what Xander said to be the "hottest drummer a guy could dream to have". Of course this means that the drummer was a guy. He was straight, no questions asked, but still. Xander hoped.

Continuing his thoughts on "Dock", Sab felt quite smug. No longer was Burning the Stars going to be playing at shitty clubs where there was burlap walls and big white spots in there faux leather seats. No longer would they have to seek for the attention that they all wanted so badly. "Dock", one of the hottest clubs on that particular block, was no longer as high as Sab and Xander and Jordan and Neil could climb. It was a foothold that they were able to pass before climbing to a ledge of fame. Perhaps, one day, a band that were like them would be their opening performance. 

Sab walked into the crusty convenience store, letting the cold air sweep down onto him. He breathed in the sent of bleach and cigarettes from outside. He was pretty sure some pot was mixed in there too. 

Sab grabbed a pack of cigs and slapped them on the counter

"Five bucks." The man behind the cash register was probably in his late fifties, hair thinning a bit and dark eyes bloodshot. He wore a wife beater that seemed surprisingly snug on his thinner body. His eyes never left the football game on the small tv above him.