Something to Believe In

Prologue

October, 1990

        Greensboro, North Carolina

"Whew, that was one helluva show, boys!"

        Known as the Glam, Slam, Kings of Noise by just about everybody who'd ever heard of them, the hair Metal band Poison clambered off their bus like a litter of hyper puppies. They'd just played a show at the Greensboro Coliseum as part of the tour for their third and most recent album, Flesh and Blood, which'd been released earlier that Summer. None of them were anywhere near ready for bed, considering it always took at least a couple hours–and sometimes a few too many beers and bottles of liquor–to wind down after a show. That was the very reason they'd just pulled up outside one of the nearby dive bars, considering they weren't interested in anything overly fancy and their manager knew he'd never corral them on the bus otherwise.

        "Damn straight it was, Bret," drummer Rikki Rockett agreed with a hoot.

        "I'm definitely not ready for the Night to End!" their lead guitarist, CC DeVille, declared. "Hell, the Night's just getting started, if ya ask me!"

        "I'll drink to that!" the final member, bassist Rob Bobby Dall, agreed.

        "Then let's get in there and light this bitch up while we're gettin' lit!" This was stated by the one who'd spoken to start with, front man Bret Michaels.

        "Hey there, boys. What can I get y'all tonight?"

        None of the guys could quite help drooling over the barmaid that'd just addressed them upon walking into the lil hole-in-the-wall establishment. They'd never exactly been picky over where they stuck their dicks–which was part of the reason why Rob'd recently gone through a nasty breakup, but that was a different story for a different Time. What mattered at the present moment was that this chick was stick-thin, blonde, busty, and just overall smokin' hot. Hopefully, her co-workers ticked off at least the majority, if not all of those boxes, too–that'd just be the icing on the cake for them.

        After giving her the tall order of various drinks they wanted filled, the musical quartet–who hadn't been recognized as of yet–sat back to scope out their prospects for the Night. None of them'd any particular type, as it were–again, they weren't exactly picky over who they slept with. Granted, that didn't mean they didn't have traits each of them was attracted to more, but it wasn't necessarily need-to-be-met requirements.

        However, as the waitress was Returning with a couple of her co-workers, considering the amount of bottles they'd to bring to their table, none of them were expecting the Sound that met their ears. Each of their spines straightened a lil more as they turned to face the small stage they'd ignored at first, all their eyes wide with surprise. It wasn't just that they'd suddenly heard a piano riff start up that'd caught their attention–it was that they recognized those first few notes. They'd have to be either incredibly wasted, particularly stupid, or a lil bit of both not to recognize the intro to one of their own songs, no matter how old or new it was. Considering they'd just played it as part of their own setlist that Night woulda made it even harder to not recognize.

        Rob's attention was quickly riveted on the person seated at the keyboard he hadn't bothered paying attention to earlier. Obviously a woman, if the ample chest was anything to go by, they'd a hat that seemed pretty similar to the one on his own head pulled down low over their face. He wasn't too sure, if that was 'cuz they were the shy type, to block out what lil bit of Light was shining on them, or a lil of both. What he could tell for sure was that the woman seemed fairly petite–exactly how he liked his women, if he were being picky–and appeared to have coloring similar to his own.

        It was as a recording of the rest of the track, sans vocals, kicked up that he felt like his teeth'd just gotten kicked down his throat in all the best ways.