How To Train a Rockstar (Complete)

Step 003: Have Massive Hair and A Ton of Makeup

After their brief rehearsal, they decided to take their cookie break. Tommy took a seat on the couch and Vince sat next to him awkwardly.

It looked as though he still felt out of place with them, Nikki would change that.

He was staring at him, imagining him with makeup and wild hair. Picturing him as the badass rock n' roll bad boy of his dreams. While he was at it, he thought of a skimpy little outfit for him to wear. One with tight, form fitting spandex and thigh high boots.

Nikki took a scrap of paper and did a quick sketch of his dream Vince.

"Vince look at this." He beckoned him over and held the drawing to his face.

"What...is that supposed to be?"

"You!"

"Oh, then. I love it! Thanks Nikki." He said cheerfully in a way to avoid hurting Nikki's feelings.

"No, no. I mean, don't you wanna look like this?

"What's wrong with how I look?"

"Vince," Nikki paused, putting his hands on his shoulders, "I'm gonna try and be as nice as possible for this, so please don't cry. I want you to change your look so we match as a band."

"Oh." Vince thought for a second, "Is it because I'm blonde?"

"No, it's because I want to have a band with matching clothes."

"Well, if that's your dream, then I guess I can help you with it. What's first?" Vince seemed eager to get in on Nikki's plan.

"Let's start with thi—." He grabbed a lock of his blonde hair, "HOLY FUCK THIS IS SO FUCKING SOFT. AND IT SMELLS SO GOOD, HOLY SHIT!"

"Thanks!" Vince grinned at him, "I should tell you what I do."

"And were also gonna work on this!" He gently tapped Vince's nose with his finger.

Vince broke down laughing and pawing at his nose, "My...my nose?"

"No, your face. Makeup, I mean."

"Alright!"

"Damn it Nikki." Mick growled from behind him. He had resettled in the large armchair, "Don't fuck up his face too badly."

"Oh my god, I won't!" Nikki grumbled back, "Tommy, I need your help."

"YES SIR!" Tommy leapt up and saluted Nikki.

A few seconds later, the Terror Twins had dragged Vince into the bathroom. It was too small for all three of them so Tommy stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"No offense, but your bathroom smells awful." Vince coughed.

"MICK!" Nikki shouted.

"WHAT?!"

"WHENEVER VINCE LEAVES YOU NEED TO CLEAN THE BATHROOM!"

"FUCK YOU. I'M TAKING MY NAP."

Nikki let out some sort of frustrated velociraptor screech, "Tommy, give me my makeup bag."

Tommy lifted up a full makeup bag that was tucked away where the vanity met the corner. He strained at he picked it up; the handle was fraying where it was stitched to the fabric. The majority of it was made with clear plastic; Vince could see all the lipstick tubes, brushes, and other cosmetics products forced up against the edges.

Then Tommy swung it at Nikki's head. Vince avoided the blow by flinching out of the way.

"DUDE WHAT THE FUCK?!" Nikki staggered back, clutching his head. He teetered on his feet before he eased himself onto the floor using the wall.