Hard Fucking Death Core

FOUR (Iselen POV)

Brussel's King Baudouin Stadium holds more than 50,000 people, it's smaller than the one in Paris and it should be easier to build the stage in theory but Ruby's not satisfied with the way her music sounds and she's starting to get very furious... she's livid, actually. I've been with the Hardcores for less than 48 hours and I've realized they aren't unbearable spoiled divas and they're always kind to the staff, they have lunch with them often and some beers too, but it's pretty obvious that, when the singer loses her temper, she also loses her manners. She's started screaming 5 minutes ago and her curses echo against the grandstand through the mic while everybody runs from here to there trying to fix the problem to make her happy. Her friends ignore her because they're used to Ruby's tantrums, I guess, Taylor and Mads share a cigarette while Lzzy caresses the piano keys and Zu spins her sticks, bored.

"You! Take this and leave it in the dressing room," Ruby barks a command and I barely have time to raise my head, surprised, when her leather jacket hits my chest and I'm able to catch it before it falls on the floor almost miraculously. What the hell is wrong with this woman? I open my mouth to complain but she turns around and walks towards the mic, she seems to think I'll obey her order immediately... and I'm going to do it but just because I don't want to hear her yelling again. It's amazing how powerful this woman's tone of voice is.

I climb down the stage stairs quickly and manage to find the dressing room without getting lost in the labyrinth of corridors, I close the door feeling grateful for the silence and fold the jacket carefully before placing it on a chair. The girls' stuff is scattered around: Taylor's makeup on a table near Lzzy's snacks and Zu's gloves, Mads' bass case is on the couch next to Ruby's Fender Stratocaster guitar... I touch the fret absentmindedly and my eyes are drawn by a piece of paper on the coffee table. Ruby was smoking a cigarette while scribbling a few lines and tapping with her fingertips on the wooden surface rhythmically before going upstairs for the sound check. I get closer cautiously but her handwriting is almost illegible... something about sneaking out of the house to fuck with a girl... when she was 13 years old... and trying meth at the same time... Wow, she was precocious although I got the impression that her father was controlling her life at that age and was breathing on her nape all the time. Maybe they aren't autobiographical lyrics after all. The door opens suddenly and I jump back but it's Vincent the one who pokes his head through the frame and looks confused when he realizes I'm alone.

"Are the Hardcores on the stage?" I nod while the singer's voice echoes behind him yelling curses. "Shit, can you give this to Ruby? She needs it now... I have to go, someone is waiting outside for me..."

"What's wrong with people today?" I grumble angrily. The manager has thrown a plastic bag to me and left not bothering to check if I was able to catch it on the fly, apparently I'm the errand girl now. I shake my head in disbelief and walk back to the backstage but I can't go upstairs because Ruby's coming down, stomping and still very furious judging by her frown. "Vincent told me to give you this..."

"Fuck, it was about time!" The beautiful brunette snatches the bag from my hands and opens it with abrupt movements before taking a look around, growling frustrated because she doesn't find whatever she's looking for. "Extend your arm..."

"Sorry, what?" I ask confused and she puts her tattooed fingers around my wrist, pulling almost violently, but she releases me quickly right before my stomach can turn of fear.

"Extend it with the inside of the arm up... that's it...now roll up the sleeve... Fuck, I don't have..." I open my eyes wide when Ruby takes a small plastic bag from the bigger one and pours a thin line of blow on my forearm very slowly, holding her breath, before leaning forward and touching my skin with her nose. The singer snorts the drug in one skilful movement that shows clearly how many times she's done the same and raises her head, sighing. Her fingers rub her nose nervously before she leans forward again and her hot tongue licks my skin, deliberately slowly, taking the smallest trace of blow and sending a shiver I can't explain down my spine; I'm not disgusted, that's for sure. "I feel better... do you know if Vincent has paid the dealer for this?"