Comparisons

Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: This was sparked from an actual argument Kelsi and I had/have.


Kelsi sighed as Mary passed over yet another one of Andy’s photos. He just had them developed, and Mary went to pick them up for him; this granted her and Kelsi, Stewart’s girlfriend, a sneak peek at them.
“I could die every time I see those lips,” Kelsi said, gazing adoringly at a picture of Stewart.
“I must admit,” Mary responded, “they are quite something.”
“Yeah, they are something, or other,” Kelsi said and the two girls started laughing.
“Oh dear, we are funny,” Mary said. “Why can’t we ever be this funny when we’re around the guys?”
“Because,” Kelsi said as she glanced over, then put aside, another picture of a tree, “we’re usually too engrossed in the boys to say anything funny. Our brains turn to mush around them, remember?”
“Yes, yes I do,” Mary sighed as she passed along a self-portrait he took, obviously in the bathroom mirror of their apartment. Kelsi laughed and took it from her.
“What colour are Andy’s eyes?” she asked and tried to make out something in the black and white photo.
“They’re a beautiful shade of blueish green.”
“Green like Stewart’s or green like a teal-ish?”
“Well,” Mary said as she quickly hid a photo of her, “since Stewart’s aren’t green, they wouldn’t be like his.” Kelsi looked at her like she had a Cacti growing out of her ear.
“What do you mean they’re not green? Of course they’re green.” Kelsi said and Mary passed another photo of Stewart over to her.
“Look,” she said, “they are obviously brown.”
“This is black and white, dumbass.” Kelsi said and fluttered the photo in front of her face. “they could be pink and you wouldn’t be able to tell.”
“Yes you would.”
“How?”
“Take David Bowie, for example – ”
“Must I?” Kelsi groaned.
“Yes. Anyway, when one sees a black and white photo of him, one can tell which eye is brown, and which isn’t.” she folded her arms defiantly.
“Of course you can, ‘cause the other one is almost white!” she exclaimed.
“Well, I still say he has brown eyes.” Mary said, not wanting to admit defeat.
“Look,” Kelsi said turning to face Mary, “I think I should know. I have gotten closer to those eyes than you have. A LOT closer.” She grinned at the thoughts running through her mind.
“Well…” Mary was trying to come up with something that she would be right at. “At least Andy has a normal sized head.” Kelsi tured around quickly and her mouth was agape.
“At least Stewart is of normal human height!”
“Andy is NOT as short as you make him out to be,” I said, wiggling my finger at her.
“He’s shorter than me,”
“Like hell he is!”
“He is, I remember,” she said defiantly. Mary deceided that she would never win, it would just turn into a “yes” “no” argument.
“At least Andy doesn’t run arund in short shorts!” Mary said.
“You know you like that.”
“Yeah, maybe I do…hey!” Mary said frowning. Kelsi laughed at her apparent lead.
“At least…err…Andy can dance!”
“ooh, that hurt,” Kelsi said, thinkning hard. “At least Stewart can write songs.”
“That’s bullshit!”
“No it’s not.”
“Andy writes wonderful songs!”
“About murder.”
“Well at least his make senese!”
“What are you going on about?”
“What the hell is ‘On Any Other Day’ about?”
“Umm…it’s his birthday,” Kelsi said. Mary put on a fade of enlightenment, just as Sting, Andy and Stewart all walked through the door. Mary and Kelsi called out urgently to the other’s boyfriend. Stewart walked over to Mary, and Andy to Kelsi.
“Come here, you,” Mary said as she grabbed Stewart by the collar. She pulled his face down to hers. He looked a combination of scared and intrigued as she looked right into his eyes. She frowned when she saw that they were, indeed, green – not brown.
“Damn.” She said, and saw that Kelsi was trying to get Andy to stand back to back with her. When she finally did, she found that she was the sorter of the two.
“Damn,” she said and walked away. Mary looked forward to find that she was still holding onto Stewart’s collar.
“Oh, sorry,” she said and let him go.
“Would you ladies care to explain what just happened?” Stewart asked. They looked at each other, then back to him.
“No,” they said simultaneously, laughing. Stewart and Andy just shrugged and walked away.
“So, they’re green. You were right,” Mary said to Kelsi. She grinned smugly.
“Yeah, and you were right. Andy is taller than me.” The two sat in silence for a minute.
“You know what I noticed,” Mary said, “that close to Stewart’s face?”
“What?”
“Those lips are indeed something, or other.” The two girls laughed heartily as the boys watched from behind the kitchen door.
“There is something seriously off with those girls,” Sting said.
“Yeah, well at least our girlfriends laugh,” Stewart said.
“At least mine can sew.”
“Mary can sew!” Andy said defensively.
“Yeah, remember what happened to those pants she hemmed for me?”
“You did the fucking splits in them!”
“Yeah, well,” Sting fumbled, “Oh fuck it, I’m making a sandwich.”

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Don't Give Up the Dye Job

Rating: PG-13


“Stewart, if you keep squirming, this peroxide is going to end up in your eyes,” Kelsi said and held Stewart’s face forward from behind. She had him in the kitchen chair, next to the sink, with an old sheet around his shoulders. He was joining his new band, The Police, and he needed to fix his dark brown hair. The rest of the boys in the band were blondes, and he needed to fit in with them.
“I’m sorry,” he said, turning to her, but she faced him back forward, “but it’s cold, and it tickles when people play with my hair.” Kelsi grabbed another clump of hair, put some foil under it, and applied the peroxide.
“Well, you’ll just have to get used to it, unless you like the pain of a stinging eye,” she said, folding the foil over. He made a noise in disagreement, and looked straight ahead. Ten minutes later, she had finished the whole back of his head, and moved onto the front. As she was leaning in to peroxide his bangs, stewart smiled at his view. She turned back around to get more foil, and Stewart reached up to surreptitiously slide off the last foil she did. It landed on the sheet, and Stewart let out an “oops”. Kelsi turned around to find the foil on the sheet and Stewart staring up at her innocently. She tisked and walked over to pick it up.
“Must have put too much peroxide in this one, and it slid out,” she said and put it back in his hair. She was leaning in right in front of his face, and he liked it. He was grinning like a fool, but forgot to stop smiling when she leaned back into a normal position.
“What are you grinning at?” she asked with her hands on her hips.
“…..Nothing…..” he said innocently, but she saw right through it.
“You bad boy,” she said, putting more peroxide in his hair. He could only continue smiling.
Twenty minutes later, Stewart was still in the chair, and Kelsi was sitting on the counter. She picked up the box and looked at the directions.
“Well, it says here that after twenty minutes it should be done,” she slid off the counter and walked over to him.
“It had better be done, we’re all out of peroxide,” he said and nudged to the bottle with his head. Kelsi nodded and started taking off the foil. She suddenly let out a gasp, and Stewart quickly turned around in his seat.
“What? What’s wrong?” Kelsi was holding her hand to her mouth, which was stuck in a mixture of surprise and amusement. She was laughing ever so quietly, buther body was jiggling with airy laughter.
“I don’t like knowing what’s going on,” Stewart said.
“See for yourself,” she said through giggles, and undid one of the foils in his bangs. The clump of hair dangled over his eyebrows, just within his view. He let out a gasp, and pulled it down further so he could fully see it. His hair had turned a bright shade of clownish orange.
“We must have needed more peroxide,” Kelsi said, undoing more foils, thus letting more of the carrot hued hair to make itself known. She couldn’t help but snicker a little; it looked rather funny.
“This is anything but funny,” he said, folding his arms across his chest.
“I’m sorry, it’s just that I’ve never seen someone with…orange hair.” She finished undoing all the foiled folds, and stood back in amazement at the sheer orangeness of his hair.
“Do you want to look in a mirror?” she asked him as she took the sheet off his shoulders.
“I guess I’ll have to at some time….” He said, standing up. They walked over to the bathroom and Kelsi opened the door. She lficked on the light, and Stewart stood in horror at the reflection in the mirror.
“I…I...I look like a fucking….carrot,” he emphasized the word “carrot” with disgust.
“Look, it will be ok for tonight, and in the morning we can go out and get you another bottle and fix this up.”
“We can’t.”
“Why not,” she asked, brushing the hair out of his face and putting her arms around his neck.
“Because I have to meet the guys tomorrow morning. We have to do an interview, a television interview. There’s no way I’m going on television looking like a fucking clown,” he was staring at himself angrily in the mirror. Kelsi reached up and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“I’m sure we can work something out,” she said, trying to comfort him.
“What time is it?”
“I think it’s around ten.”
“Fuck. Everything’s closed.” He folded his armd in front of his chest.
“I’m sure it will be fine….” She was running out of comforting things to say to him. She couldn’t think of anything that would fix his hair tonight.
“Hey, if it’s a television show, they must have a hair stylistm right?”
“I guess so…Hey, I get where you’re going with this!” he turned to her and actually smiled. “The stylist can fix my hair that morning! You’re brilliant!” he picked her up and spun her around a few times. When he put her down, they smiled at each other, and he took her hand. They giggled their way up to the bedroom and shut the door.

------

“Oy mate, what the fuck happened to your hair?!” Kim exclaimed as Stewart walked into the studio. Sting turned around in his chair and burst out laughing. Tears were rolling down his face he was laughing so hard. Andy walked in shortly after, and repeated Sting’s exact reaction.
“It’s not that funny, guys,” Stewart said meekly.
“It bloody well is,” Sting said doubled over the arm of his chair. Stewart could only look around for the nearest hairstylist. Sensing his distress, the director of the television show came over to his side.
“You want that taken care of, skinny?” he asked, eyeing him up and down.
“The hair?”
“No, your nose; it’s hideous. Of course I mean your hair. Now, come with me and I’ll have Diane take care of you.” He whisked Stewart away to a make-up room and sat him down in the chair. Stewart explained to her what had happened, and she nodded thoughtfully.
“Ok,” she said in a think Spanish accent, “I know what to do.” Stewart sat back, and let her do what she had to do. Thirty minutes later, he was staring at a bleached blonde version of himself in the mirror. No more orange.
“Oh wow,” he said, running his hands through his hair, “how could I ever thank you?” she smiled and shook her head.
“It my job, you no need to thank me.” She smiled at him, and he was quickly dragged away by the producer.
“We go live in fifteen Stewey baby. Let’s get you on the set.” Before he could say another word, he was pushed into a fluffy chair on the set of a morning talk show with Sting to his left and Andy to his right.
“Wow, I like what she did to your hair,” Andy said.
“Yeah, not so Bozo-ish anymore,” Sting said laughing.
“Oh can it, shmuck-o.”

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If I may ask a personal question...

Rating: PG


“So,” the interviewer, Kathy, said as she flipped over her piece of notebook paper, “Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” Sting shifted in his seat and looked around. The others shrugged, and Sting told her it was alright.
“I heard from a source that you and your girlfriend are frequent practitioners of Tantric sex.” Sting looked at the reporter, mouth agape.
“Who told you that?!”
“I’m not at liberty to say.” Sting looked as though he was going to strangle her for letting out something so private, until Stewart tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hey,” he whispered to Sting, “do you know what this could do to your reputation?”
“Yeah, that’s why I’m pissed.”
“No,” Stewart whispered, shaking his head, “I mean in a good way.” Sting looked at him like he just decided to start playing the Accordion.
“What?!”
“Run with this. It will drive all the women fans mad. They’ll think you’re some sort of sex god.”
“You mean I’m not to begin with?”
“Shut up and answer her question.” Sting turned back to Kathy.
“Yes, it’s true. We do.” The interviewer’s eyes lit up.
“Really?”
“Yes.” She scribbled down something on the paper.
“Care to elaborate?” Sting thought for a second.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, how different is it from regular sex?”
“Well….the positions.”
“Yes?”
“Yes. And…umm…” Sting thought for a minute.
“I thought we were going to talk about the new album,” Andy whispered to Stewart. He could only shrug. Sting’s eyebrows lowered on his forehead and a sly grin formed on his face.
“Let me answer your question with a question.”
“Ok.”
“Do you know how long I can have sex for?” Kathy looked a mixture of confusion and intrigue.
“Well, I don’t think – ”
“Do you?!”
“No…I don’t,” she replied.
“Hours!” the three of them looked at Sting in such surprise that any innocent passer-by would have thought their eyes were going to pop out of their heads.
“Excuse me?” Kathy asked, pushing her glasses up her nose.
“You heard me. I said that my girlfriend and I have sex for hours!” No one could believe what he was saying.
“You know,” Stewart said in a whisper to Sting, “when I told you to ‘run with it’, I didn’t mean this far.”
“Well,” Kathy said, “It’s been nice talking to you boys. Our time here is done. I think that I have enough for my article.” She stood up and shook all of their hands. After she left, Stewart and Andy turned to look at Sting.
“You realize what you just did, right?” Andy asked him.
“What? I just gained us a legion of female fans, just like Stewart said.”
“No no no no,” Stewart said, frantically shaking his head, “I said ‘run with it’, not ‘run with it until you reach a cliff and then jump head-first off it’.”
“What do you mean?”
“That’s going to be plastered all over the papers!”
“No it’s not. They would never put somehitng like that in the newspaper.”
“Yes they will,” Andy said defiantly.
“No they won’t, you’ll see.”

The next morning, in their hotel room, Sting, Andy, and Stewart were sitting around the table eating breakfast. Stewart put down his spoon and picked up the newspaper sitting under the plate of scrambled eggs. His mouth dropped open when he read the headline:
“Police frontman: ‘I can have sex for hours!’”
“Uh…guys?” Stewart said, tapping Andy on the shoulder.
“What?”
“Lookit this.” He passed the newspaper down the line.
“Holy shit.” Andy said and put his hand to his mouth.
“What?” Sting exclaimed and tore the paper out of his hand.
“You could have asked…” Andy said sadly and took a bite of his grapefruit.
“Wha…What….I….oh my god,” Sting said staring at the headline.
“I told you that it would end up on the front page,” Stewart said.
“I can’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” Andy said.
“There’s one major problem,” Sting said, putting down the newspaper.
“What?”
“How the hell am I going to live up to this?”

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A Simple Request...

Rating: PG. It's cute, but still a little unsuitable for children.
Summary: Peter, overcome with various emotions and thoughts, requests something from Phil.
Author's Notes: Yeah.... it's a slash. I finally succumbed to the pressure and wrote a Peter/Phil slash. It's NOWHERE NEAR AS BAD as the ones I have previously read concerning the same topic, by the way. This actually stemmed from an amusing conversation Kelsi and I had over how in all the other slash, Peter is the agressor, and Phil is the weak one who crumbles under any form of seduction. We decided that this is NOT the way it really is, so I decided to make it official and write it into a fic =)


Peter and Phil were sitting in their hotel room. Phil was sitting on one end of their sofa, and Peter was at the other. Phil was staring mindlessly at the television while Peter flipped through “The Portrait of Dorian Gray.” Every so often, Peter would sneak a look at Phil out of the corner of his eye. Phil didn’t notice, though; he seemed completely entranced by the images flashing on the screen two feet in front of him. Every time that he looked over, and Phil didn’t look back, Peter would sigh and return to his book. He couldn’t quite get into it, though; all he could think about was how close Phil was to him, and how much closer he still wanted him. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. Peter put down his book, after carefully bookmarking it, of course, and turned to face Phil. Peter sat this way for almost a minute without Phil noticing. Finally, Peter cleared his throat a little and inched closer to Phil.

“Phil?” he said timidly. Obviously Phil didn’t hear him, so he said it again, a little louder. There was still no response, though, so Peter tried poking him a little.

“Phil? Phil?” he asked inbetween jabs. Finally, Phil looked over at the singer.

“What?” Peter looked around for a minute, fumbling for words.

“Well…I was…umm… I was wondering…if you would….umm…”

“Get on with it, I’m watching something on the tele,” Phil said impatiently.

“I was wondering,” Peter continued, “Would you…umm… would you have sex with me?” Phil’s eyes lit up in surprise.

“No!” he exclaimed. Peter looked over at him nonplus.

“What?” Peter asked timidly.

“I said no! I’m not having sex with you!”

“Please?” Peter begged. He knew that he was appearing desperate; deep inside, though, he really was. Mike had turned him down the other day. He knew that he was in deep trouble when he gets rejected by Mike Rutherford.

“No!”

“Just a little?”

“A little?” Phil asked confused. “How can you have a little sex?”

“I can show you,” Peter offered with an innocent tone in his voice, but he was feeling far from that.

“No! Now let me watch the tele!” Phil said as he turned back to face the screen. Peter wasn’t satisfied yet, though.

“Phil?” he asked again with no response. “Phil?” he continued, still receiving no response. He was just about to start poking him again when Phil turned to face Peter.

“What?!”

“Please?” he asked again. Phil let out a disgruntled sigh.

“No, Peter, I will not have sex with you. I’m sorry.”

“Just for a few minutes?”

“No!”

“ONE minute?”

“NO!” Phil said and faced the television once again. This time, though, he folded his arms in front of his chest. Peter sighed, picked up his book, and got up off the couch.

“Fine,” he said, placing the book on his bed. “If you won’t do it, I’ll just go see Tony then. He’ll sleep with me.”

“Go ahead,” Phil said, not looking up from the screen. Peter frowned, picked up his coat and walked out the door. He didn’t slam the door, but he closed it firmly enough to let Phil know he was upset. A few seconds after Peter left, Phil got up off the couch. He walked over to the phone on the bedside table between the two beds and dialled a few numbers.

“Steve?” he said into the phone.

“Yes Phil?” Steve Hackett replied.

“You want to walk down the hall to my room? Peter’s gone…”

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Masks.

Rating: PG. It's cute.
Summary: You work in a costume store when Mr Gabriel comes in to purchase an accesory for the night's show.

Author's Note: I wrote this while watching a DVD from them in '73. By the way, I HATE the word "masks."


I hated working until closing. I have always hated this, but I hated doing it on this job more than any other. I actually hated this job itself more than any other. I had been working at Lee Christi’s costume shop for six months now, and I still hadn’t gotten used to all the mannequins, like Lee Christi himself said I would. Oh man did I hate mannequins.

So, as if my fear of mannequins wasn’t bad enough in the daytime, it was now seven o’clock, and rather dark outside. I looked from one aisle to another, with all the mannequins at the end of every row basked in feature-heightening shadows; it was enough to give Winston Churchill the willies. I turned on the radio to keep myself company, only to find that the batteries had run out. I was tempted to ring up and old pal of mine for a distraction from the plastic people, but I knew that if Lee tried calling to “check up” on me, and the line was busy for more than two minutes, he’d have my head for sale faster than you can say “Authentic Marie Antoinette wig.” I was also incredibly tempted to close up early; there hadn’t been any customers in the past hour, and it didn’t look like any more were coming. However, I knew that if I did, well, you know what would happen.

Just as I thought the next two hours were going to be the longest chills-induced, hair-pulling hours of my entire life, the little bell at the top of the door rang signalling that someone had actually walked into the store. I was half-expecting to see some poor old woman that had walked into the store by accident, and half-expected to see some flamboyant actor that needed a full-out Henry VII costume for the premier in a half an hour since he spilled wine all over his old one. What I was not expecting to see, however, was Peter Gabriel himself walk past the boa display that stupidly hid the door from sight of the register, and up to me. He smiled, as if to say “Yes, I know you’re a huge fan, so why don’t you just come out and say it so we can all laugh about it.” So I did, and we laughed about it.

“Why thank you,” he said, bowing. “I always love to meet a fan of mine, I mean us,” he grinned sheepishly at his Freudian slip.

“Are you looking for something specific?” I asked.

“Actually, I am. We have a concert starting in about an hour, and I need a mask.” I chuckled and he raised an eyebrow nonplus.

“I’m sorry to laugh, but it always amuses me to hear someone come in saying that they are looking for a mask, or a wig, or a costume.”

“But, aren’t you a costume store?”

“Oh, yes, indeed we are. I only found it amusing because it is so vague. We have hundreds of masks, wigs, and costumes. So, to say you are simply looking for a mask makes me laugh.”

“Ooh, I see now,” he said and smiled. “To be specific, I am looking for an old man’s mask; something relatively eerie looking, but not scary.”

“Here, I’ll show you all of our masks.” I twitched a little.

“Are you ok?” Peter concernedly asked. I chuckled.

“Yeah, I just hate that word. It’s the s, consonant, s combination that drives me nuts. I hate saying that.” I had made my way around the counter by now and plopped a “be right back” sigh in the middle of the surface area.

“My, you sure are an interesting person,” he said smiling down at me. “I like that.” I couldn’t help but smile, he was adorable. I led him down one of the aisles, keeping a suspicious eye on the mannewuins. I turned around to look at Peter, and I found him doing the same thing. When I pointed this out to him, he laughed.

“Normally, they don’t freak me out, but it’s just that a plastic person dressed as a dungeon master at night creeps me out a little.” I smiled, with him doing the same thing. We finally reached the wall of masks, I realised that I forgot my keys to get behind the counter and actually get the masks up front.

“No problem,” Peter said. “I’ll hoist you over, no problem.” I grinned slightly, nodding my head “ok”. He walked over, and put one arm behind my back and one behind my knees. “One, two,” he said, and on three he lifted me up and placed me gingerly on top of the counter. He let go, and I slid behind it.

“Thanks,” I smiled at him and he bowed again, saying your welcome. When he stood back up, he smiled widely. I noticed that other than the fact that he had a lovely smile, he was wearing a bit of eye make up, and it made him look gorgeous. We stood there for a few seconds smiling at each other, until I realised that he was here to get a mask, and I needed to get it to him before his show.

“So, an old man mask,” I said turning and looking up at the wall. I finally found the cluster of elderly people masks, and pointed them out to Peter.

“Well, we can definitely eliminate all the old women, which leaves those three,” he motioned a little circle with his delicate hand. I saw the ones he meant, and got the ladder to take them down. I laid them out on the counter: one was a very creepy old man with warts and such; one was just a wrinkly looking face; and, the last one was a creepy old man, but it was the only one that wasn’t a full face mask. It had an open spot where the mouth was, which I thought was perfect for him, being a singer after all. Apparently, Peter thought the same thing, since he picked it up and tried it on. Its white hair was accented with bits of silver, and its face was eerie looking with Peter’s own mouth doing the talking.

“It’s perfect,” he said with it still on, “I’ll take it.” I smiled, nodded my head, and put the ladder away. When I got back to the counter, I was trying to figure out how to get back over. I managed to hop up onto it, after which Peter took me behind the back and knees again, helping with my descent. While I was being picked up, I noticed that the mask was still on, and it was indeed eerie. Before he put me back down on the floor, he held me aloft for a little bit, with us looking into each other’s eyes. I had some how gotten my arms up and around his neck; perhaps it had been for stability purposes. I took my right arm that was up around his neck, reached up, and pulled off his mask. I was there, in Peter Gabriel’s arms, approximately six inches from his face. We were still looking at one another for a little while longer, with me suspended in his arms, when he kissed me. He kissed me right on the lips, in his arms, with me holding his old man mask in the other hand. The only thing that stopped us from continuing this wonderful moment was the sound of someone clearing his throat behind us. Peter pulled away from me, and we turned to see who was watching. My mouth dropped in absolute horror to see none other than Mr. Lee Christi standing behind us, arms firmly crossed in front of him. Peter put me down and took the mask from me.

“Mr. Christi, I can explain – ” I started to say, but he put his hand up to stop me.

“I think you’ve done enough,” he said. “I’ll finish up with this customer, and I’ll close up. You can go home.”

“When do you want me to come in tomorrow?” I asked.

“Don’t.” he looked me right in the eye. I knew I had been fired from the second he cleared his throat, but I was just trying to get a few more seconds with Peter, who had somehow managed to get his arm around me.

“Ok then. I’ll just get my stuff, and I’ll go.” I said and walked to the back room to gather my stuff. When I emerged a few minutes later, Peter was no where to be found, but Lee was counting money and putting it in the drawer. I solemnly walked out, and walked straight into Peter.

“I was waiting for you,” he said. “I wanted to apologize for getting you fired.” He looked in my eyes sadly.

“No, really, it’s ok. I hated it there anyway, all the mannequins and things.”

“Oh, ok then.” He smiled, shuffled his feet, and fiddled with the mask bag. “Hey, I have a gig in about ten minutes, I should get over there.”

“Yeah, you probably should.” I said, mentally cutting the tension in the air with a straw.

“Hey, do you want to go? I can get you backstage and such,” he smiled at me, with sparkle in his eyes.

“That would be great.” He took my hand, and we walked down the street to his gig. We made it there just in time, and when they got to the end of “The Musical Box”, and Peter put on the old man mask, it looked great if I do say so myself.

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Looking For Someone, Pt 3

Rating: PG-13 for some language and sexuendos.
Summary: You meet the guys in Genesis at a record party, and general chaos insues.


I



“What time is it?” I asked myself when I woke up. It was obviously morning, since the second I tried opening my eyes they were flooded with light. When I got used to the light coming from the window on my right, I noticed I was laying on the floor in a mess of sheets. As I looked around I remembered I was in Tony Banks’ bedroom. There was a bed to my left and a bedside table at my head. I sleepily sat up on one arm and looked at the clock by my head. It was 1:45 in the afternoon. I yawned as I turned to my left and found, as I expected, Tony himself sprawled out on the bed with the comforter around his knees. He obviousle wasn’t used to having other people in his bed, which would explain why I was on the floor.

I stood up, rearranged my sheet cocoon, and crawled into the bed. Tony grunted and turned over onto his right side. He didn’t seem to realise I was there. I rolled over, put my arm around his shoulder, and whispered into his ear: “Wakey-wakey luv.”

He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head. He smiled once he noticed it was me.

“Guten Tag,” he said and rolled over to face me.

“Since when do you speak German?”

“Since last night,” he said and grinned before wrapping his arms around me. He then put his nose and forehead against mine. He gently kissed me on the lips and pulled me close. We were making out, again, when the phone rang. He grunted and rolled over to answer it. I sighed and snuggled down into the bed.

“Hello?”

“So how was she?” I heard a voice ask on the other end. Tony turned to me and rolled his eyes.

“Well PETER, I don’t like to talk about those things...” he said and I grinned. I could've guessed it was him.

“Oh, right, sorry. But dig this: I met this great chick this morning. I was going into the little café down the street, as usual and I was getting my usual coffee. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I see this chick with short black hair. She’s sitting in the corner with a foamy latte, sketchbook open, doodling away. Every now and then, she’d look up, scan the room until she found something she liked, and she’d sketch it.”

“How do you know this?”

“I asked. I saw her whole sketchbook; very very good stuff. I invited her to the practice later so you can meet her. You know the practice I’m talking about, the one you’re already fifteen minutes late for...” I could hear the whole conversation on the other line. I was preoccupied with his description of the girl he just met. She sounded vaguely familiar. However, when I heard we were late for the practice, my mind raced. Neil was probably worried sick about me. But when Tony hung up the phone and turned to me, I completely forgot about my annoying brother.

“Yeah, we’re late for the Genesis rehersal, and they’re gunna throw a fit if we’re any later. We’d better get going, luv.”



II



“You know, it does get a little boring,” Tony said as he (sadly) put on his pants. I still had my towel on from the shower (Sorry, you’ll have to use your imagination), and I was trying to not drip too much on the carpet.

“Oh, I think I can keep myself busy...I can just get lost in your eyes, I mean music...”

“You’re so cute – hey, you need clean clothes, don’t you?”

“Erm, yeah I do,” I said and looked at my clothes from yesterday in various little piles around his room; they were mixed in with his, I think.

“Here, try these on,” he said and tossed me some jeans, followed by a red stretchy Speedo. I raised my eyebrow at him and he turned bright pink.

“...And why haven’t I ever seen these before?”

“...Because I didn’t wear them last night?”

“Oh, good point,” I said and put it on. It definitely sagged in the front, as I already knew, but it fit well enough. Then I slipped on the pants which were just a little bigger than mine were. I walked to the other side of the room where my bra ended up and put it on.

“You need a shirt too I assume?” he asked as he buttoned up his shirt. I could feel a sweater coming...

“Yeah, I do. Unless I can just walk around like this...”

“Well I wouldn’t mind, but I think you might get arrested, which is bad in case you didnt know,” he said and pulled on a light blue sweater over his shirt. I knew it. He then tossed me a white hooded sweater from the closet and I slipped on. It fit quite nicely and smelled just like Tony; this was very nice, by the way.

“So, Peter picked up some girl at the café?” I asked as we stepped out onto the pavement.

“Yeah, I just hope for all our sakes that she’s not like his last girlfriend...” he said and took my hand.

“Why, what was she like?”

“Well, I’ll try to be nice. She was very loud, frank, brash, with a think Puerto Rican accent and she was from New York.”

“Aha, well.....she’s not her any more and that’s all that matters.” I laughed a little and he took my hand. We walked down the sidewalk a little until we reached a quiet coffee shop. We walked in and I gave Tony a confused look.

“What?” he asked equally nonplus.

“I thought we were running late.”

“We are, I just thought that we could grab a coffee to go. It is, after all, approximately 40 degrees out, and it could warm us up.”

“I know something else that could warm us up,” I said, wiggling my eyebrows. He chuckled and kissed me lightly on the lips. We walked further into the coffee shop, arm and arm. When we reached the counter, Tony gave the man his order, then mine. I didn’t even tell him what I wanted, yet he ordered me a French Vanilla Coffee, with extra cream and sugar.

Once we received our beverages, and were walking back out onto the street, I asked him about this.

“How did I know what?” he asked, taking my hand.

“How did you know that was exactly how I like my coffee?”

“Oh,” he said taking a sip from his, then hailing a cab. “I don’t know, I guess something in my mind signalled that you were that kind of person. I really don’t know, I just felt it, and I said it.” The cab came and he opened the door for me, letting me climb in first. I sat down with Tony sliding in next to me. He gave the driver the address of their rehearsal space, and we took off.





********





Peter looked at his watch: it was eleven o’clock in the morning. With his non-watch hand, he pushed open the door to the café and walked inside. He sat down at his regular table, then the waitress, immediately seeing his entrance, brought him over his usual: chai tea and a vegetarian wrap. He started to bite into his sandwich, but he stopped just before his teeth came into contact with the bread. He looked over it to a table approximately fifteen feet infront of him. Sitting there with what looked like a mocha latte, sketching aimlessly in a notebook, was a woman of about five-foot-two with short black hair. He was immediately taken aback by her, and he put down his sandwich. She looked up from her paper, let her eyes wander around the room, and stopped on Peter. Their gazes met for a few seconds before he looked away. However, he quickly snuck another glance at her, at the same time she was sneaking a look at him. She smiled, and he did the same. A few seconds later, he realized that he was still looking at her, so he quickly looked away.

After he finished his sandwich, he looked back at the woman at the other table. She was still sketching furiously; the only difference was that now there was an empty mocha cup next to a newly purchased, full one. He decided that he wanted to talk to her, but he didn’t think that he had enough courage to. He finally decided that if he didn’t talk to her, he would be kicking himself for it later. So, he placed a ten pound note on the table and got up.

“Is this seat taken?” he asked and pointed to the chair opposite her.

“No, it’s not. Sit down if you want to,” she said and motioned to the chair with a smooth motion of her pencilled hand. Peter took up her invitation and sat down in the chair.

“I’ve been noticing you drawing things around the café. I was wondering, if you maybe wouldn’t mind, if you could show me them? I mean, if you don’t want to, I understand. I don’t know if I would show anyone my drawings. Well, if they were good enough I would. I mean…” he trailed off realizing how much of a fool he was making himself out to be. She giggled a little and smiled at him.

“Sure, I would love to show you.” She flipped the pages in her book to the front one, then turned it to face Peter. He slowly flipped through the book, admiring each little sketch. Most of the later sketches were things that he found in the café, while the earlier ones were more random. When he reached the last page, however, he was inclined to stop and stare at it. It was a sketch that took up almost the entire page, and it was done in more detail than the rest of the sketches. There, in black ink on the white paper, was a beautiful portrait of Peter.

“Oh, that, is, umm,” she stammered as Peter gazed with mouth ajar at the drawing before him.

“Beautiful. It is absolutely beautiful,” he finished for her. “Do you think that I could have a copy of this? Perhaps, a signed, phone-numbered copy?” she smiled at him and nodded. She reached across the table, took the sketchbook out of his hands, and scribbled her name and number in the lower right corner. She delicately tore it out of the book and handed it back to him.

“Oh,” He said, “I was only kidding, sort of a bad pick-up line, but thank you, Kelsi.” He looked up from the paper and smiled at her. She smiled back, and he thought to himself how nice of a smile she had.

“By the way,” she said after taking a sip from her coffee, “I do know who you are. You’re Peter Gabriel. I absolutely love your work.” She smiled shyly, knowing that this conversation could very quickly turn fangirlish.

“Thank you very much,” Peter said and also smiled shyly, knowing how easily he could make himself very pompous and unhumble. “Well, since you’re such a big fan,” he said as he shifted in his seat, “would you be interested in accompanying me to our rehearsal today? I know that Tony will end up bringing his girlfriend, so you won’t get too bored, I promise,” he smiled generously in Kelsi’s direction.

“I would love to,” she said as she closed her sketchbook. The waitress brought over the bill, Kelsi paid for it, and the two of them got up. As they were walking out, Peter’s hand brushed against hers. He would have taken her hand if the door hadn’t forced him to be chivalrous and open it for her instead. They hailed a taxi when they got onto the curb. They climbed inside, gave the directions to the driver, and took off to practice.



********



“I swear, if he doesn’t get here soon, I’m going to kill him,” Peter said, pacing around the rehearsal space, which was basically a big loft inside a warehouse that Mike’s friend rented to them.

“Chill out, man,” Steve said, fixing his hair in the mirror on the wall.

“Yeah, he’ll be here soon,” Phil said as he hit a few of his cymbals from behind his drum kit. All the while, Kelsi was sitting on the worn-out couch that faced the band and was sketching them. Mike noticed this and walked over to her. He sat down on the couch and peered over her shoulder to her drawings.

“Wow, those are nice, really nice,” he said.

“Thanks,” she blushed.

“What’s nice?” Steve asked, turning away from the mirror.

“Her drawings; she’s really got talent.” Steve walked over to the couch, stood at the back, and peered down at the book between Kelsi and Mike.

“Oh wow, they are,” he said and brought his arm forward, pointing at a spot on the page. “Hey, that’s me!” he said smiling.

“That’s not you, it’s Phil!” Mike said. “This one’s got more of a beard.”

“But this one’s got glasses!” Phil got up from the kit and walked over, as if to settle this argument. He peered over Kelsi’s other shoulder and looked down at the book.

“This one’s me,” he said, tapping at a different spot on the page. “See? Beardy, with no glasses. You are all blind I swear.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Steve said, standing up straight again. “This one’s too good looking to be you anyway.” The whole group erupted in a chorus of “oohs”, except for Phil.

“You’re going to pay for that,” he said, inching his way over to Steve.

“No I’m not…” he said, inching backwards. They continued this pattern of yes and no until Steve was a foot away from the door. Then, without warning, Phil tackled Steve, sending him flying backwards.



III



Tony and I just happened to be walking into the room as Steve came flying at us. And, as luck would have it, he knocked me over backwards onto the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he said and got up off me. He held out a hand to me and helped me up. I brushed myself off and Tony took me close.

“What the hell were you guys doing?” Tony asked, feigning laughter. I recognized this, but decided to not say anything as I would have probably found it funny, too.

“They got into a little row about one of Kelsi’s drawings,” Mike said, facing backwards on the couch so he could see Tony and me.

“Who’s Kelsi?” Tony asked. Suddenly, it all came into place for me. I knew why the description of Peter’s lady friend sounded familiar.

“I’m Kelsi,” she said and turned around on the couch. When her gaze met mine, her mouth dropped open. “Layla?” she asked in disbelief. I smiled and nodded my head. She leapt up off the couch and ran in my general direction. She enveloped me in a giant hug, while Tony and Peter exchanged confused glances.

“You two know one another?” Peter asked, moving closer.

“Yeah!” I exclaimed. “We went to school together. It’s been years since we’ve talked; I can’t believe we’re seeing each other right now!” Tony and Peter looked to each other again, and shrugged.

“That’s so weird,” Steve said. I looked over at him and saw that a piece of the floor had splintered off into his hair when he hit the ground. I reached up and removed it from his hair. He looked absolutely perplexed, but was interrupted by Peter.

“Well,” he said, folding his arms, “Now that the boy wonder and his practice-inhibiting girlfriend are here, can we get down to business?” I looked at him funny, but he grinned slyly, showing that he was only joking. I threw the splinter at his head as everyone walked back over to the practice portion of the room. Kelsi and I flopped down on the couch as the boys picked up their instruments. They began to tune up, and Kelsi and I turned to look at one another. After a few seconds of silence, we grinned, and began flapping our hands in front of our face, making a sort of “eeeee” noise. They boys stopped tuning, and looked at us in an odd way. Kelsi and I burst out laughing, and they all shook their heads.

“This,” Kelsi said to me, whispering, “Is like a dream come true.” I could only smile and nod in approval.

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Looking For Someone, Pt 2

Rating: PG-13 for some language and sexuendos.
Summary: You meet the guys in Genesis at a record party, and general chaos insues.


I



“Wait!” I said looking around panicked, “Where’s Phil?”

“He was just here,” Steve said looking around.

“Didn’t he push you into the moat?” Tony asked and looked up.

“The moat’s that way Einstein,” Peter said and I hit his arm.

“This isn’t funny. He could be seriously hurt,” I said and started outlining the lines in my palm with my forefinger.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked and took both my hands in his. He looked at my palms, almost expecting to find something there.

“It’s a nervous twitch. When I get anxious or something like that I start going over all the lines in my hand. I don’t know why, I’ve just always done it.”

“Awww how cute,” Mike said sticking his head on Tony’s shoulder.

“Oh...go find Phil or something,” I said and Tony squeezed his nose, pushing him away.

“It really is quite cute, in an odd sort of way,” Tony said looking into my eyes, “at least you don’t bite your nails.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that,” Steve said and put his hands in his pockets. We all laughed, but we were stopped short by a loud thud from inside the castle.

“What if that was him?!” I said nervously. Tony was still holding onto my hands so I became even more anxious as I couldn’t outline anything. He noticed how twitchy I had become and he took his thumbs and traced the little lines in each hand. I began to feel a lot better.

“Well, I believe we have two options,” Mike said and held up two fingers. “One,” he held up one finger, “is the most logical one. We go inside, regardless of legal-ness, and look for ol’ Phil. Or, number two,” he still held up one finger until Peter nudged him and the other finger went up, “we look for another drummer, namely Peter since he already knows all the songs.” Everyone looked back and forth between each other. We all knew what had to be done. Well, at least everyone except Steve. As we started walking into the castle, Steve was heading in the other direction.

“Dude, where are you going?” Peter asked and grabbed his arm.

“I thought you wanted to play drums,” was all he got to say before Peter dragged him along the moat one more time.



II



“Look, a note!” Tony said as we walked through the gate.

“What does it say?” I asked. Tony looked at me like he was thinking “well that’s what you do with a note”, but he blinked a few times and smiled so it was all ok.

“It says, ‘Hey Bob, I’m leaveing early tonite. Can you please lock gate for me. I will still bee hear in the morning to open up. Thanks, George.’” He cringed and read it to himself again.

“What’s wrong?” Peter asked.

“This guy cannot spell anything to save his life.”

“So this Bob guy obviously left without locking up, never seeing his note,” Steve concluded.

“Well he did leave it in a shadow,” Tony said sarcastically.

“Look, here’s a map. It says what parts of the castle are normally locked to the public. Now we know where he definitely WON’T be,” I pointed out. The map didn’t really help much as there were only two parts of the castle that were locked.

“He could be anywhere,” Peter said and shook his head, “maybe I should polish the old drum kit, just in case.”



III



“Oh come on guys, Scooby Doo did it all the time!” I pleaded. I was trying to convince the guys that we should split up so we could cover more ground in less time.

“I actually see what she’s talking about,” Mike said.

“But there’s five of us,” Peter said and waved five fingers in the air.

“And there were five in Scooby Doo too,” I pointed out, “Daphne and Fred were always together, and Thelma was with Shaggy and Scooby.”

“So let me get what you’re tying to say,” Mike said, “Daphne, Fred, Thelma, Shaggy and Scooby,” he said as he pointed to me, Tony, Peter, Steve and himself respectively.

“Yeah, basically,” I said and linked arms with Tony.

“So we should meet back here at 11.30. That gives us 45 minutes to look around. Ok?” Peter said and looked at his watch.

“Yes Thelma, I mean Peter,” Steve said and laughed.

“Heh heh very funny,” Peter said and grabbed my wrist, “ok, you have the same time as me. go by your watch. Now, there’s two ways to go at the end of this hall, left and right. We’ll go left.”

“What do we use for lights?” Mike asked

“There are light switches in all the rooms, I remember,” Steve said.

“Just when WAS the last time you were here?” Tony asked and looked right into Steve’s eyes.

“I told you, when I was a kid......ok it was a few weeks ago. The girlfriend wanted to check it out, so I went with her,” Steve said and shifted his feet.

“Awww how sweet,” I said and pinched his cheeks.

“Ow, that’s hurts man!”

“Love hurts,” I said, and Tony reached over and pinched both of my cheeks.

“Will you two please just get married and have eight kids and get it over with!” Peter said.



III



“So...how tall do you think this is?” I asked Tony as we went up the stairs.

“Well, it’s probably three without the towers. God knows how tall those are.”

“Wait, why isn’t anyone searching the ground floor?”

“They are, don’t you remember them telling us that just before we left?”

“No,” I said, “I was too busy loosing myself in your eyes.”

“You are so adorable.”

“Yeah,” I said fluffing my hair, “I know.” Tony took my hand and we walked up the rest of the stairs. At the top, there was a room directly on our right. Tony went first and pushed it open. The light switch was easy to find and light quickly filled the room. It was a gorgeously huge bedroom, go figure.

“Look at the size of this bed!” I said as we walked in. There were paintings on all four walls and a large window with deep crimson curtains. The bedspread was the same colour as the curtains with a drape around the perimeter of it.

“Its huge!” he said and we walked over to it. He pulled back the drape and sat down. He patted the bed next to him and motioned for me to sit down. I did, and the bed was very soft and comfortable.

“Do you think we’ll ever find Phil?” I asked Tony as he put his arms around me and pulled me close.

“I’m sure we will. He probably just wandered off and is thinking the same thing about us.” He stroked my hair and I looked up at him. I couldn’t believe this was happening. There must have been thousands of girls in the world who would’ve killed to be where I was. We just stared at each other for a while before he finally inched closer to my face and kissed me. Sure, I’d been kissed dozens of times before by various boyfriends, but nothing was like this. He was soft and gentle, yet powerful. Just as I was really starting to enjoy this, the door to the room slammed shut.



IV



“Someone left the window open,” Tony said as he walked over to the curtains flailing about the window. The wind was really blowing hard, which explained the slamming door. I was still sitting on the bed, but I decided to get up. It was probably a sign that we should be looking for Phil, not making out on some dead king’s bed.

“We should probably keep looking,” he said when he saw me get up. Thankfully, the door opened up just fine and we went out into the hallway. Holding hands the whole time, we searched half of the floor before I looked at my watch.

“Hey, it’s 11.27. We should probably get back to the rest of them,” I said and turned around.

“Yeah, they probably found Phil a half an hour ago and we didn’t know,” he said and put his arm around my waist as we walked back. We reached the stairs just as Peter was yelling “Where the hell are they? I said 11.30! I swear if we have to go looking for those hormonal -”

“Hormonal what?” I asked as we descended the stairs.

“Erm,” he said, “Nothing, never mind.”

“That’s what I thought. Find Phil?”

“Does it look like it?!” Mike exclaimed and threw his hands in the air. Suddenly, we heard what sounded like a car horn out in front of the castle.

“It’s the police!” Steve said and ran into the shadows.

“How do you know?” Tony asked and pulled him from the corner.

“Guess?”

“Let’s go see. If it is the police, we’ll just explain that we were going to have a picnic and we lost one of our friends and went looking for him, finding this completely open,” I explained to them.

“Perfect, say exactly that,” Peter said and we all went outside.



V



“You’ve been here HOW LONG?!” Peter yelled into the open window of his trusty van.

“The whole time,” Phil explained, “I realised that I had some of my girlfriend’s hair pins in my pocket, so I ran over to the van to try and pick the lock. I was gunna surprise you lot and drive up with it. By the time I got it open, you were gone. I figured you’d come running out looking for me.” We all stood staring at Phil, mouths wide open. I was the first to speak.

“Yeah we went looking for you, INSIDE the castle. We thought you were like, kidnapped or something!”

“Well, at least we found him in one piece. Come on, let’s go home.”



VI



“So, where are we going?” I asked, again on Tony’s lap in the backseat of the van. Only this time, Phil was driving and Tony would occasionally kiss me on my lips or neck, depending on how far he felt like stretching.

“Well, we were gunna go back to the party, get into our cars, and go home. What about you?” asked Peter.

“Well, I really don’t wanna go home. My brother will give me the Spanish Inquisition -” but I was cut off by the whole van saying, “NO ONE EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!!!”

“Ah, I love that show,” Steve said took off his glasses to clean them. Mike let out a gasp and said “I’ve never seen you without your glasses!” Phil looked in the rear-view mirror and commented, “dahling, you’re gowgeous.”

“Yeah,” he said putting on his glasses again, “I know.”



VII



“Where you off to?” I asked Tony when we got out of the van.

“Home. Well, it’s home to me. it’s just a little flat uptown. Erm, do you wanna come? I can pull out the couch.”

“How big is your bed?” I asked biting my lip. He turned bright pink, looked away, shuffled his feet and smiled. I swear he was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen.

“Well, it IS a king sized.....”

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Looking For Someone - Pt 1

Rating: PG-13 for some language and sexuendos.
Summary: You meet the guys in Genesis at a record party, and general chaos insues.


I



“Neil, please, I’ll be fine.” I said as I pulled away from my brother. He sighed and opened the door for me and his girlfriend Anna. We all walked into the huge hall and were instantly flooded by bright lights and the occasional photographer flash. Ah yes, the annual Charisma Records party. And there, standing looking like the Charisma label himself, was Tony Straton-Smith with a silver plate of cheese.

“Just as I expected guv’nor,” My brother Neil (Yes, THE Neil Innes) joked and took a few cubes. “This is my lovely girlfriend Anna and my sister Layla,” he introduced and Tony kissed both our hands. He offered me a cheese-cube and I took it hungrily. I only had a salad for dinner since my own brother forgot I was vegan and took us to a fish and chip place.

“Hey,” I said to Neil, “I’ll find you later. I’m gunna go look around.”

“No way. You stay next to me. Just imagine what mum would say if she knew I let you off on your own in this place,” he sternly objected. I started to plead but Tony interjected.

“Hey, chill man. It’s not like she’s gunna get abducted. The worst thing that’ll happen is she’ll get knocked-up.”

“yeah, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” Neil said and shook his head. “Fine, go ahead. I just better be able to find you later,” he sighed. I hugged and thanked him and walked away. But, not before taking another piece of cheese followed by Tony’s laugh of approval.



II



I walked around the ballroom for at least a half an hour. I was mainly working the perimeter (where all the food and drinks were), and I didn’t see anyone I knew – or I would like to know. I aimlessly made my way around the dessert table for the third time (but only the first time eating), when I literally bumped into someone. I looked up and found I was face to face (well, more like face to chest) with Mike Rutherford. Thankfully his cake was still on his plate. I smiled up at him and he smiled down at me.

“Hey, I know who you are. I’m a very big fan,” I said and took a bite of a raspberry tart on my plate.

“Thanks,” he replied and then looked like he was trying to scan his brain for something. He suddenly frowned, “Erm, I’m sorry about this, but, umm, do I know you from somewhere?”

I laughed and patted his forearm, which I think I saw him blush a little over. “Probably not, so don’t worry your pretty little head about it. I’m Layla Innes, Neil’s sister.”

“Oh, right the funny piano guy from the Bonzo band, right?”

“Yup. That would be the one.”

“Well,” he said in-between bites of cake, “I’m gunna head back to the rest of the guys, you know, Genesis, and I was wondering if you wanted to tag along too?”

I grinned, “I’d love to. But first, I feel the call of another raspberry tart.”



III



“Hey, where’s my cake?” called an apparently hungry Phil Colins as soon as we approached. Mike just shrugged his shoulders and ate the last bite of his piece.

“Hey, she’s got raspberry tart though!” I looked up and saw Steve Hackett grinning through his full beard. I just laughed and followed Mike, biting into my last piece. The whole band laughed.

“So, who’s the bird, I mean chick, I mean lady,” fumbled Peter Gabriel and started blushing. I chuckled a little; he was quite adorable when he was confused. I know that sounds mean, but it’s true.

“It’s ok,” I said and wiped away the crumbs from my mouth. “I’m Layla Innes, Neil’s sister.”

“The funny piano guy from the Bonzo band, right?” asked Phil suddenly reappearing with a piece of cake. Mike and I looked at eachother and laughed.

“Yea, that’s right.”

“Well nice to meet you,” Steve said and held out his hand.

“Likewise,” I said as I shook his hand. He had rather nice hands, and I tried not to giggle out loud. I shook the hands of the rest of the band and we started talking about out music (go figure).

“Well I play bass, I have been for six years,” I said and my comment was met with open mouths.

“A bird who plays bass? Oh, sorry I mean chick. No wait, lady,” Peter fumbled through again. I put my hands on his shoulders and turned him to face me. I looked right into his blue eyes.

“Look,” I said after repressing all my giggles, “it doesn’t matter. You can call me anything, except ‘woman’, ‘bitch’, or any synonym of ‘whore’. Really, I don’t care.”

“Oh, well that’s good,” he said and gave me an Eskimo kiss. I patted his head and turned away.

“Where the bloody hell is Tony?” Mike asked and looked around. The rest of the band shrugged their shoulders.

“Let’s look!” Phil said. After a few minutes, no one could see anything.

“I have an idea!” Phil said and tapped Mike on the shoulders. Mike looked down at him and Phil made a motion for Mike to kneel. He sighed, but did so. The rest of the band looked on puzzled. Phil got on Mike’s shoulders and Mike stood up shakily. Phil now towered above the whole party and could see everything.

“I don’t see him,” Phil said scanning the room. “Turn to your left a bit,” phil said and again, Mike did what he said. As they repeated this little periscope bit, I saw none other than the aforementioned Tony Banks approaching to their rear.

“Guys, erm, I think you can stop now,” I said.

“No! this is too much fun!” Phil said and patted Mike’s head.

“But, really -” I said but was cut off by the silencing finger of Phil.

“Wait, I think I see him!” he proclaimed. His little victory dance was soon shut off. Tony, walking up behind them, was cleaning his teeth with a nice, sharp, toothpick. Once he spotted Phil’s arse a little above eye-level, an evil grin came upon his face. He removed the toothpick from his mouth, and promptly stabbed Phil in the behind with it.



IV



“Oy mate! Who does that, honestly?” Phil said once placed somewhat gracefully on the floor.

“Apparently Tony does,” quipped Steve. He pushed up his glasses with one finger, satisfied with his comment.

“Apparently...” Peter said and looked from me to Tony, then back again. Tony looked up from his toothpick (which he never put back in his mouth, by the way) and saw me for the first time. His eyes lit up a little and he smiled. Naturally, I smiled back. I mean, I always had a sort of celebrity crush on him, but I was actually meeting him. He was a lot more handsome up close.

“Hi, I’m Tony Banks, as I assume you already know,” he said quite smoothly. I fumbled through my next couple statements.

“Erm, well, yes, I already knew that since I’m a huge fan. Oh, and well I was just standing here just now as they were looking for you. And erm, well, umm, yeah,” I said and chuckled. I looked up, suddenly realising that probably no one just understood what I said. Peter walked to my back and started massaging my shoulders.

“Jeez, usually it’s Steve that makes the birds go all jiggly at the tongue.”

“Ooer,” I said and raised my eyebrows. The whole group laughed and I felt a little better. Peter was still massaging my shoulders.

“Now, lets try that again, eh?” Peter said.

“Well, ok, why not?” I said and smiled at Tony. He grinned back and reached over and took my hand.

“Yes, I know who you are, I’m a big fan. And my name is Layla, Layla Innes,” my voice cracked when I reached the end because he started rubbing my hand between his fingers. He smiled and Phil said, “Ok, now you guys are just being mean.”

“Well if that’s being mean,” I said, “Please, be very, very nice to me.”

Everyone laughed and Tony looked right into my eyes. I smiled as Peter let go of my shoulders and I rolled them back and forth for a bit. Suddenly, I felt a tugging on my shoulder and I was spun around. It was Neil.



V



“I saw everything. Don’t even try to explain, it won’t matter,” he said sternly. I looked back at him equally sternly.

“...and what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re too young to be involved in that sort of stuff. Now come on, we’re going home. Seems the Halibut did a bit of damage with Anna’s stomach.”

“Well, you did eat meat. Hey, wait. First, I’m 19, in university, and I think I’m old enough to make decisions on my own. Second, you can leave, but I’m staying. I can get a ride or walk the 50 feet to the hotel.” I stood with my arms folded, just daring Neil to defy me as he sighed.

“Fine, you’re right. You’re no longer a child, do what you want,” he said with his head bowed down. For a minute, I almost felt some remorse.

“But I swear to god,” he said, suddenly louder, “if anything happens to you, it’s not my problem. You get raped or something, it’s your own damn fault. Good bye, see you at home hopefully by tomorrow,” and he left.

I turned back to the guys and they were just standing there in awe. Mike was the first one to speak.

“Is he always like that?”

“Only to me; I guess it’s just the little sister syndrome. He tried flushing me down the toilet when I was first born.”

“Thank god you survived,” Tony said. I turned and smiled at him. Suddenly Phil butted in, “Cor, I’m starving. You lot wanna go somewhere else to eat?”



VI



“A van? You expect all six of us to fit in this little van?” I asked when we got to the car park.

“Well, Peter’s driving, there’s one seat up front, which leaves four of us to fit into.....three seats. Oh yeah I see what you mean,” Steve said.

“Well, since I’m the tallest one,” Mike started to say.

“Go on, get the front...” I said and looked at him sarcastically before punching him playfully in the arm.

“Well,” Tony said standing beside me, “we could always share a seat love.” He put his arm around me, and we just looked at each other for what seemed like and eternity before Phil interrupted us.

“Really, we can just pull out the back row so you two can cuddle or whatever it is your hormones are currently screaming.”

“Phil,” Steve warned, “don’t give them any ideas.”

“Are we going or what?” Peter asked, already sitting in the driver’s seat. He started the van, which emanated a loud bang, and we all jumped. As previously planned, I was put on Tony's lap next to Steve and the window. That ride could have lasted forever.



VII



“Five cheeseburgers, six Cokes, one Diet, six medium fries,and two apple pies” Peter said into the mouth of Ronald McDonald. We drove around to the window, waited about five minutes, then our food was delivered. Mike dished out the bags and Peter pulled away. When I opened my bad, I noticed that not only did I have my burger and fries, but there was a container of onion rings and an Apple Pie.

"Hey, I got a ton of extra food!" I said smiling. Everyone protested, making sure that they all had the food they were supposed to. When they all realized that everything was as it should, they began complaining about my free food.

"Hey, I know, let's play a game to figure out who will get the extra food. I know that there's no way I can eat all of this," I said stuffing a french fry into my mouth.

“No fair, Tony’s gunna win no matter what!” Phil said.

“No, really, lets play. I’ll ask you guys something about me, you lot can guess and whoever gets it right gets the food.”

“Seems fair,” Peter said as he narrowly missed hitting a bright orange barricade with the van.

“Ok....” I thought of a question. This was very hard as Tony had just begun to rub my back, preoccupying my mind. “I got one. When’s my birthday? The closest one gets the food.”

“September 18,” guessed Steve.

“May 7,” said Mike.

“August 21,” said Tony.

“August 22,” said Phil, apparently trying some strategy. Or he wasn’t paying attention.

“Well, I’ll go with February 13,” said Peter.

“Isn’t that your birthday?” puzzled Mike.

“Well,” blushed Peter, “you never know.”

“Pssh, singers,” said Steve and poked Peter in the back of his head.

“Well, who gets the extra stuff?” asked Mike while taking a big slurp from his soda.

“Tony does actually,” I said to a van full of groans.

“Told you he’d win...”

“Oh shut up.”



VIII



“So, where to now?” I asked as I bit into my burger. We were parked in the neighbouring car park to McDonalds. Everyone was digging into their food, not talking. Tony had been nice enough to share his onion rings with everyone. Meanwhile, my lap was serving as a table for Tony’s winning apple pie, and his other food, too.

“I dunno,” said Peter in between mouthfuls, “Not much is open at this time of night.”

“Oh, I beg to differ...” Steve said and wiggled his eyebrows underneath his glasses. The van erupted in various sighs of “steve....” and “Go figure....” and the occasional “One-track mind...”

“I didn’t mean that you filthy little perverts!”

“Hey, don’t say that to all of us. I mean, there’s definitely only one of us with the intentions of getting into Tony’s pants,” Phil said.

“So?” I asked accidentally out loud. Everyone stopped eating and just turned to look at Tony and me.

“Anyway....where to next?” Tony asked blushing, trying to change the subject.

“Well definitely not ‘back to your place’. Sorry Layla,” Peter said and started the van up. I grunted and ate the rest of my fries.



IX



“Where the hell are we?” I asked as I looked around this new place. In front of us loomed a huge stone castle built on a sprawling, lush, green field.

“It’s some random castle. I remember going here for tours when I was little. It’s so different when it’s night-time,” Steve said and folded his arms.

“It’s also quite different when it’s ILLEGAL,” I emphasized.

“Oh come on, where’s your backbone?” Mike asked.

“Here,” I pointed at my back, “wanna see?”

“No really, I think we’ll pass,” Phil said.

“I agree with Layla. I don’t think we should be doing this,” Tony said and looked around the property. The gate was completely opened and there was no one around.

“Fine then,” Steve said, “you two can go off and make out in the van and we’ll go explore.” Tony and I looked at each other for a few seconds, looked at the van, and trotted off in its general direction.

“See you lot later,” I called. Tony turned around and walked a few steps back to the guys.

“Hey, if there’s a tie on the handle, knock first.”

“You don’t own a tie,” Phil said.

“Well, I think you’ll be able to tell,” he said and strolled back towards me. However, when we reached the van the doors were locked and the key was in the ignition. We headed back to the guys who were just starting to amble towards the castle.

“What’s wrong? Not posh enough for you?” Peter said sarcastically.

“No you idiot,” I said right in his face, “you left the bloody keys in the ignition with the door locked!” I hit Peter in the middle of the forehead mildly hard.

“See? It’s a sign; you have to come with us now.”

“What about your keys?”

“We’ll get them later. I’ll have Tony S. come up with a coat hanger later.”

“Right then....are you really going in the castle?”

“Of course!” Mike peeked in between Phil and Peter’s head, pumping his fist in the air, “let’s go!”



X



“Tonight, the headline news: Rock group Genesis arrested for breaking and entering into decrepit old castle,” I said sarcastically as we walked over the dried-up moat.

“Oh shut up. It’ll be fun,” Phil said and pretended to push me into the moat. As usual, I lost my balance and fell the three feet into the dirt.

“Don’t worry, I’ll save you!” Tony joked and jumped into the dirt.

“No Tony! You can't swim!” Mike yelled and jumped down also.

“I’ll save all of you!” Peter said. He daintily sat down on the draw-bridge and slid into the empty moat.

“I’m drowning you pansy!” Steve yelled and flopped around in the dirt. Mike grabbed hold of him around the waist and dragged him to the “shore”. Once on “dry land”, Mike proclaimed, “Oh no, he’s stopped breathing! I must perform CPR!”

“Aah, no way! I can breathe just fine now, trust me,” Steve said and got up, brushing himself off.

“Well now that that’s over with,” Tony said walking up the moat, “let’s just go inside. I mean, we’re already here let’s see if there’s anyone around; namely a police officer.”

“Good idea,” Mike said and raising his arm, again, he yelled “CHARGE!!!” and ran into the castle.

“Wait!” I said looking around panicked, “Where’s Phil?”

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Tree Hugger

Rating: NC-17


Nick and Lilly were walking through the woods. It was one of those days that you read about in people’s dreams; the sun was shining, there was a light breeze, it was a perfect 72 degrees (Fahrenheit), and the couple was walking along holding hands. Occasionally, Nick would stop them, turn to face Lilly, and kiss her. They would stay like that for about a minute, and then continue walking.
They passed squirrels, rabbits, deer, and plenty of birds. Despite all the cute little animals, the one thing that made them stray from their path was a large tree.
“Why are you so fascinated by a tree?” Lilly asked as Nick led her off the path to the tree.
“Because, this tree is different,” he said as they reached it. “You see, if someone were to, oh, let’s say stand behind it,” he hopped behind the tree. “No one can see you!”
“Ok…” she said, obviously not getting his point.
“Now, let’s say there were two people. One was standing, and one was, well, sort-of standing,” he said raising his eyebrows. Lilly got what he was saying finally, and she walked over to him, putting her arms around his neck. They made out for a while before Nick pulled her behind the tree. He continued to kiss her, this time letting his hand creep up her chest. When he got a hold of her, she reached down and unbuttoned his pants. They slid around his ankles as he took off hers. She propped herself up between Nick and the tree, and Nick situated himself.
Thirty minutes later, they were still behind the tree, but they were sitting down, leaning against it, pants in the proper positions, with Lilly on Nick’s lap. They smiled at each other and he kissed her again. He then got up quickly, and ran to the other side of the tree. There, he took out his pocket knife and began hacking into the tree. Lilly sat there watching him for a few minutes. When he stepped back to admire his handy work, she got up to see what he did. They two of them smiled, admiring the words “Nick and Lilly” carved into the tree, inside of a heart.

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Rainy Day Hopes and Dreams

Rating: PG


Nick had always wanted to be kissed in the rain. Call it a girlish fantasy, but it was his fantasy none the less. He was standing at the door to Lilly’s apartment trying to fill the awkward silence with compliments, getting wetter and wetter by the second.
“I had fun tonight.”
“Me too,” she said shifting her feet.
“You looked really pretty,” he quickly said.
“Thanks.” There was more awkward silence. The two of them were getting pretty wet.
“Your hair looked nice too,” he said looking at what it used to be.
“Yeah, well it’s all wet now. You know, since we ran out of money for the cab.”
“I said I’m sorry for that,” he said looking into her eyes.
“I know, I’m sorry I snapped.” He continued to look into her eyes, but this time he moved in a little closer to her.
“I can’t ask you to come upstairs, you know that.”
“Yeah, I know.” He said finally breaking his gaze to look sadly at the ground.
“So, since we’re getting pretty wet, we should say good night now.”
“Yeah, good night,” he said and leaned in to kiss her good night. However, she had already opened her door and slipped inside. Her head was still poking out of the doorway, and she said a final good night before closing her door,
“I’ll call you!” he called back through the door and, when he got no response, he started trudging his way home. He may have not fulfilled his fantasy of being kissed in the rain, but he remained optimistic. He knew he would fins another girl and he definitely knew that it would rain again. After all, it was England.

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Eau D'Amour

Rating: PG


I didn’t see you walking backwards with her hands filled with shoe boxes. This might have been because I was also walking backwards, except that I was carrying a blender. Only in Target could something like this happen. Needless to say, we collided. Hard. We both lost our balance and landed on the floor, but not before knocking over a display of Halston perfume. We became covered in the eau de toilette, as did our purchases. I looked over at you, sprawled out on the floor, surrounded by boxes of shoes, your name-tag askew on your perfume-dripped uniform. You looked at me, hair wet with perfume, blender smashed a few feet away in its crushed box.
We both apologized profusely, claiming distraction and our own faults. I helped you up, trying not to slip in the puddles of perfume. The air smelt very heavily of this aforementioned substance, and the management was quick to run over.
They yelled at you, called you ignorant, said you’d have to pay for everything. I interjected, saying that I was the one who bumped into you, knocking you into the display. They said they would have “none of it”, citing that the customer is always their top priority. You were whisked away by the management, shoes left in the aisle, perfume everywhere, and my blender in ruins.
It’s months later and I finally got my new blender. I never saw you again, though. I never forgot about you and the events that took place.
A month further on, I met another woman in a dimly lit club. We hit it off, talking endlessly about nothing, buying each other drinks, flirting up a storm. There was something familiar about her, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It wasn’t her looks or her personality. I had to break it off with her; whatever it was about her that was so familiar was making me sad. A week later, as I was trying to figure it out in my head, it finally hit me. It was her perfume: Halston.

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Friday on My Mind

Rating: NC-17


“What are you doing Friday night?” Nick asked Nicole over breakfast. She ate another spoon of corn flakes and wiped her mouth.
“Nothing, why?”
“Oh, well, my parents are coming to visit me, and I was thinking that you could meet them. I mean, we have been going out for quite a while now.” Nicole looked around shyly, put down her napkin, and put her hand on his.
“Nick, I would love,” she squeezed his hand, “to meet your parents.” They smiled at each other and kissed.
“Now, I need to go get ready for work.” She got up from the table and brought her dishes to the sink. Nick watched her move gracefully in her white linen robe, outlining her every curve. He couldn’t lie to himself; her every move turned him on. If she wasn’t due for work in forty-five minutes, he would have thrown her over his shoulder and carried her back to the throes of passion; where exactly he carried her to would depend on how far his back would allow him. He wasn’t picky, anywhere would have been fine.
He got up to put his dishes in the sink, walked past the calendar and did a double-take. Today was a bank holiday; Nicole didn’t have to work. He smiled evilly and walked to the bedroom. She had her back to him, naked, and she was fishing through the closet trying to find something to wear. He crept up behind her, and put his arms around her and started kissing her neck. She was startled, but quickly found out what was going on.
“Hey, I have to go to work,” she said between giggles.
“No you don’t,” he said between kisses, “it’s a bank holiday.”
“So it is,” she said and turned around to face Nick. He smiled and kissed her passionately on the lips. She undid the tie on his bath robe and it slid off his slender, drummer shoulders. The two of them stood there, naked, making it clear to second base. He finally couldn’t take it any more, and he picked her up and placed her on the bed. They slid under the covers and he continued kissing her. His hands slid up and down her naked body, finally resting on her hip. She whispered his name, and he took it as a cue to slip inside her.
Meanwhile, Nick’s parents are busy knocking on his door.
“Maybe he has a key under the mat,” his mother said.
“He’s not that stupid,” his father said and she bent down to look under the mattress. After fishing around for a few seconds, her hand came out holding a key.
“Well, he’s still not stupid,” his father said worriedly. She took the key and put it in the door.
“Hello?” she called to no response.
“Are you sure you told him we had to come today and not Friday?” his father asked as they walked through the kitchen.
“Yeah, I did. Well, I think so,” his mother said unsurely. They continued to walk through the house looking for their son.
“Nick? Are you home?” he asked but only heard a rhythmic thumping noise in response. They followed the noise, thinking maybe he was hammering something that needed repair in the house. They reached his bedroom door where the noise was coming from. Without a thought to the wrong side, his father opened the door. Right in front of his parents was Nick, under his covers, with his girlfriend, getting his rocks off. They turned to see the older couple standing in the door, mouths agape, watching everything before their eyes. Nick quickly covered their heads with the remainder of the blanket, pulled out even quicker, and poked his head out of the blanket.
“Why are you here?” he asked inquisitively.
“Your mother forgot to tell you that we were coming today, not Friday,” his father said.
“Oh,” Nick said and looked around. “Can you give us a minute? We’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
“Sure thing,” his mother said and they turned and walked out.
“That was…embarrassing,” Nicole said once Nick rolled off her.
“That’s one way to put it,” he said and got out of bed. Nicole followed suit and they both got dressed. When they got into the kitchen, however, his parents were nowhere to be found. Instead, on the table, was a note. Nick read it aloud:
“Dear Nick,
Sorry we walked in on you today. I’m sure it was as embarrassing for you as it was for us. We decided we’d come back Friday like originally planned. Sorry for the inconvenience.
Love,
Mom and Dad
Ps: Your key from under the mat is on the table. Try picking a better hiding spot next time.”

Nick shook his head and put down the letter. “Man, my parents are soooo weird.”

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The Lucky Shirt

Rating: PG for language.


“That shirt is SO ugly,” Ricky said as Nick walked out of his dressing room.
“What? Are you serious? I love this shirt!” Nick looked down at his orange polo shirt and smoothed it out with his hands.
“Yeah, but it’s ORANGE. Nothing rhymes with it for a reason.”
“Well, I don’t care what you think of it, it’s a good shirt, and I like it. And you know what else?” Nick said poking Ricky in the chest. “it’s my new lucky shirt too.” Ricky looked at him in disbelief.
“You can’t just decide that a shirt is lucky! It has to fall into your hands by fate. Like, karma or something. I don’t know, one of my old boho girlfriends told me about it.”
“You mean Sharon?”
“No, Moon River.”
“Oh right, I shoulda known. Plus, Sharon wasn’t boho, she was just plain ho.”
“Hey! Don’t say that about her!” Ricky said and went to punch Nick in the arm. Nick moved just the right amount back that Ricky missed and hit the incoming Peanut in the stomach.
“Hey man! What did I ever do to you?” he said rubbing his abdomen.
“Sorry, that was intended for Nick.” Ricky said patting Peanut on the shoulder.
“Hey, maybe this is a lucky shirt!” Nick said looking down at it.
“I said you can’t just deem a shirt lucky, it has to just happen.” Ricky said throwing his hands in the air.
“You know what, let’s make a bet. We’ll go out and test my luck. If I get lucky all day, then you have to buy me lunch tomorrow. If it’s unlucky, or nothing amazing happens, then I will throw out the shirt and buy you lunch.” Ricky nodded and they went out for the day, leaving poor Peanut in the hallway holding his stomach.
“You punch too hard Ricky!” he shouted before walking across the hall back into his dressing room.

-------

“Ok, test number one, scratch ticket.” Ricky said and they walked up to a little news stand on the street. “One cherry bomb, and one Bingo please,” he said and the man handed over two tickets. Ricky paid and Nick took a coin from his pocket. The two of them went to the side of the stand as Nick scratched off the appropriate squares. Not only did he win on both of them, but it was a large win. The cherry bomb yielded £50 and the Bingo paid off £100.
“See? This is my lucky shirt!” he said and pulled the fabric over his chest bone up to his face and kissed it.
“Well, this is a game of chance! Anyone could win!” Ricky said folding his arms.
“Oh come on, you can have £25 if you really want, since you bought them.”
“Oh, you don’t have to…well, ok if you insist,” he said and took the tickets up to the man. They collected their money and went on in search of their next test.

-------

“Two chili dogs,” Nick said to the man in the street cart. They stopped to get something to eat; looking for luck was a tiring task.
“There you go,” the man said and Nick paid with his new winnings.
“Thanks squire,” Nick said.
“Oh, be careful. It’s a fresh batch and could easily slop all over you,” the man said and, right on cue, Ricky’s chili dog dribbled out of its bun all over his shoe and lower pant leg.
“Damn!” he said and reached for the napkins. Nick bent down to help clean him off. When he stood back up, he noticed that not a drop of his chili dog had left its confinement.
“Wouldja look at that, not a drop,” Nick said and grinned.
“That’s lucky,” said the man at the cart.
“Yes, I’ve noticed that I’ve been quite lucky today. I think it could be my lucky shirt,” Nick said and looked right at Ricky.
“Well, that sure is some kind of shirt,” the cart man said and gave it a weird look. Nick gave him an equally weird look and they continued walking.

-------

“Hey, look a £5 note! It must be my lu–”
“Don’t even say it…” Ricky commanded Nick as he bent down to pick up the stray bill. Nick could only smile in response.

-------

“I’m telling you, this shirt is lucky,” Nick said as they were walking down a side street.
“YOU CANT JUST DEEM A SHIRT LUCKY!!!” Ricky exclaimed and threw his hands in the air.
“Hey, if it’s bugging you that much then let’s just go back and forget all about it.”
“No, really, it’s ok. I’m sorry, I just got a little carried awa –” Ricky was cut off by a slamming sound behind them. They turned around to see a TV laying in ruins on the ground, followed shortly by a VCR. They looked up to a third-story window to find a woman yelling frantically and throwing things out the window.
“I hate you so much!” she said and threw out a pile of clothes. A pair of boxers landed on Ricky’s head and he quickly pulled them off.
“Oh dear, I’m SO sorry!” she yelled down to them. “I didn’t think anyone would be walking by! You didn’t get hit with anything did you?” she asked.
“No, luckily not.” Ricky said.
“I wasn’t talking to you, I was asking your cute friend.” Nick blushed.
“Oh, yeah I’m fine,” he said and scratched his head shyly.
“Good.” She waved him the “call me” sign and went back inside.
“That damn shirt…” Ricky started to say.
“Totally saved your ass.” Nick finished and they laughed.
“Come on, let’s go back,” Ricky said as they headed back down the street.
“Hey Ricky?”
“Yeah Nick?”
“There was a £20 note in one of those jeans.”
“Did you take it?”
“Do Australians snog sheep?”
“Damn shirt…”

-------

“Mmm, this soup is DELICIOUS!” Nick said digging into a bowl of clam chowder. “And it tastes even better when it’s free.” He smiled across the table at Ricky.
“Hahaha, you are soooo funny.”
“Hey, you admitted that it was a lucky shirt, which means that you lost the bet and bought us lunch.” He smiled and took another bite of soup. “Hey, you know, we could settle this like Seinfeld with me saying that a soup doesn’t really count as a meal, and we’ll have to do this all over again.” They laughed.
“You wouldn’t do that though, would you?”
“No, I wouldn’t. it would be funny though.”
“Yeah it would. Well, I guess this only leaves me with one question for you.”
“Shoot.”
“Do you feel lucky? Punk?” Nick laughed and went for another bite. However, the spoonful of soup didn’t quite reach his mouth. Instead, it landed with a deafening “plop” into his lap.
“I guess that would be a no,” Nick said and wiped the soup off his lap.

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My Kind of Guy - Pt 3

Rating: PG-13 for some mature instances
Summary: The main character wins a contest, getting to be on the crew for the Kaiser's filming of their tour. It's the Employment tour, influmenced by the Enjoyment DVD.


I was sitting there, waiting to see what Simon had in store for me. My fate was basically in his hands.

“I want you to… give Ricky a lap dance. Now.” Everyone murmured and I turned bright red.

“This isn’t helping anyone to know anyone better!” Nick said. “This isn’t what I was planning on!”

“Like I said, you picked the one game that hooks up people more besides Twister. This was bound to happen.” I was trying to avoid the subject. I mean, it’s not that I wouldn’t have done it, just not in front of everyone.

“Come on, let’s have it,” Peanut said and folded his arms.

“I’m not doing it without music,” I said.

“Here, I have something,” Simon ran to the bunk beds.

“You don’t have to do this,” Ricky said stroking my hair.

“No, really, it’s ok. It’s all a joke anyway. I’m gonna totally BS them anyway, make them laugh,” I said smiling.

“Here, do it to this,” Simon said, returning with his iPod in its docking station. I got off Ricky’s lap and go into position. Simon hit play and the opening of “Every Day I Love You Less and Less” came out of the speakers. Everyone cracked up, including the bus driver. I just shook my head and got on with it.



*****



“I’ve never seen anyone dance that way to one of my songs,” Ricky said as he climbed into his bunk. We never finished our game, since one of the PTB called us and told us to go to bed, “we had a long day the next day”. Thankfully, he waited until the song, and my dance, finished before calling us.

“Yeah, well I’ve never danced that way to anyone’s songs” I had changed into my night clothes in the bathroom; there was no way that I was changing in front of five hot-blooded indie boys. I was standing at my bunk, heading to the ladder when a pillow hit me on the head. I looked up to see Ricky grinning like a lunatic.

“What’s this?” I asked, holding up the pillow.

“Your pillow, remember how you brought it up to my bunk earlier?” now I remembered. I took it up with me when he first talked to me about the Towers of London.

“Thanks,” I said and smiled.

“Lights out in two minutes!” the bus driver called from the front. I hopped into my bunk and got under the covers. Nick’s head suddenly appeared next to mine, albeit it was on the other side of the bunk. I had forgotten that he was below me.

“Nightey night!” he said and pulled my drapes closed. I lay in bed for a few minutes, thinking about my current situation. I only got as far as my first encounter with Ricky when I fell asleep.



*****



I felt someone shaking me at the shoulders. I wanted to know what the hell was happening, but my eyes refused to open. I finally pried my eyes open when I heard Nick say “Well, I guess we’ll just have to leave her here if she doesn’t get up.” I remembered right then where I was, and my eyes shot open.

“Come on dear, you have fifteen minutes. There’s a blueberry muffin out here with your name on it.” If I wasn’t blessed with hair that only needs to be washed once every three days, I would be screwed. I clambered out of bed, grabbed my suitcase and went into the bathroom. I changed my clothes and ran some of that spray shampoo through my hair. I was out in ten minutes, a new record, and I sat down to eat my muffin.

“How’d you sleep love?” Ricky asked, sitting down next to me and kissed me on the cheek.

“Very well. I was out like a light. Hey, what time is it?”

“Umm,” he said and looked at his watch. “It’s one thirty.”

“In the afternoon?” Ricky nodded. “I thought we had a long day today.”

“We did, until the venue called us and said the man with the keys to open up was in a layover at the airport and was going to be a few hours late.”

“Oh, poor man,” I said and took a bite of my muffin.

“Well, he’s here now, which is why we have like five minutes before we’re due for soundcheck. We’re so far behind.” I nodded.

“Wait, what am I going to do?”

“The execs said that all you guys have a meeting while we do soundcheck to go over what your duties are on tour.” I finished the muffin and crumpled up the wrapper.

“Ok… it’s business time.”



*****



“Come with me you guys,” Jim, our head PTB said and led us off to a side room. We were in Hartford, Connecticut, for the first spot on this tour. We were being corralled into a little office room and put into chairs. He went through all out jobs and gave us all enough paperwork to wrap all my Christmas presents. The two camera people were supposed to film a specific song at each show, to be determined by the writer. These songs would then be given to the editor and edited together, the order determined by the writer. The camera people would also be filming B-Roll, or random shots, of the boys off stage. When it all gets assembled, then my job comes into play. I tell the editor what shots go where, which to use, and how the final product will look. So basically, my job comes at the very end of the production. I pulled Jim aside and asked him if I basically got to rest for the whole tour, only doing the occasional odd job. He said yes, but not to tell the others in that exact wording.

I went back to the stage to watch the boys play. It put a huge smile on my face to know that the man up there bouncing around, belting out indie floor-fillers was my boyfriend. I knew that girls would try to get him on tour. Hell, I was even a groupie once. It didn’t bother me, though. I knew that he would always come back to me. This thought was solidified when they finished the song and Ricky bounded off the stage to me. The rest of the band took off their instruments at a leisurely pace, except Simon who seemed to be reading Ricky’s book of dating. He, too, bounded off the stage to Alison. Ricky beat him to his own girl, though, and pulled me on to my feet.

The sound man put on Franz Ferdinand’s most recent cd and Ricky started dancing with me. The first track, The Fallen, was a sure way to make anyone dance. As Ricky pulled me into a dip, and his lips passionately landed on mine, I knew that I had finally hit the big time in my book. I didn’t need to be rich, I wasn’t a materialistic person. I was a different kind of rich, I was rich in my friends, my art, and love from my wonderful boyfriend, Ricky Wilson.



*****



That night, I was supposed to watch the show from the wings. However, someone had messed up the paperwork and the security didn’t know that I was actually supposed to be there. So, naturally, I got kicked to the curb by a big, burly, security man.

“But I’m Ricky’s girlfriend!” I shouted as the guard closed the door.

“Sure you are,” he said sarcastically. “Now just go wait at the top of the ramp with the other girls.” He closed the door in my face, echoing the cold metallic bang all the way through the parking lot. I looked behind me to find a legion of slutty looking girls gathered in a huddle at the top of the loading ramp. I pushed the buzzer on the door and it was promptly opened by the gurard.

“What do I go when I get to the top of the ramp?” I asked, but the door was shut in my face before I was able to finish my question. I heard the girls giggle loudly and I figured that since I had three hours to kill, I would see what they were up to. I figured I could call Ricky’s cell when the show was done (he gave me it earlier in the day, I knew there would be a reason to have it later on).

I made my way up to the ramp, pulling my light trench coat tighter around me. I definitely didn’t have the groupie look, anymore. I had my tight, but not too tight, blue jeans, beatle boots, grey long-sleeved square-cut shirt and my black trench coat. I approached these girls with short skirts and high-heels and tight shirts feeling more than just a little out of place.

“Umm, hi,” I said once I reached their little blob.

“Umm, hi to you too,” one of them said to me. The rest of them were too preoccupied with looking me over to offer any human-esque greeting in my general direction.

“So, who are you with?” one in the back asked me.

“Oh, the Kaiser Chiefs.”

“Yeah? So are we,” another said quite aggressively.

“Oh, how nice,” I said and shuffled my feet. I had a bad feeling about this; you could have cut the tension in the air with a butter knife. Not just any butter knife, mind you, but one of those ones that have been used so much for things other than butter that all the serated edges have worn off.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” one of them asked.

“Umm,” I said looking around. “I don’t know, it just kinda came to me? I really didn’t mean anything, I was just responding to you.” I erally didn’t feel like getting my ass kicked by a bunch of groupies tonight. As a matter of fact, I didn’t feel like getting my ass kicked by a bunch of groupies ever.

“Oh. Well, since us five are with the Kaisers, and there are five Kaisers, that leaves you out to dry.” One said and folded her arms in front of her.

“And don’t even try to get one of them before us,” another said. “Otherwise, you’re not going to like what we’re going to do to you.” They started to move in a little closer to me. Naturally, I moved backwards. And, naturally, I tripped over something and went flying backwards, landing on my butt. My cell phone went flying out of my pocket and landed about five feet from me, where it proceeded to ring. Now, it wasn’t just any old ringtone, it was “Na Na Na Na Naa”, and that could only mean one thing: it was Ricky. I scrambled over to my phone, opened the cover and saw that it indeed was him, and I answered it.

“Hello?”

“Where the devil are you?” he asked in a panic.

“Why aren’t you playing?” I asked and I heard the girls murmur.

“Well, the opening act’s guitarist broke a string before he even played, nerves I guess, and they couldn’t find a replacement…but that doesn’t matter right now. Where are you?”

“Security kicked me out!” I said, looking back at the girls. “They didn’t believe I was your girlfriend, so they sent me up to the ramp.” I saw the looks on some of their faces change to osmehting I still can’t describe.

“I’m coming to get you. See you in a sec.”

“No, wait – ” I started to say, but he had already hung up.

“Who was that?” one of the girls said.

“Oh, no one, just my boyfriend Ricky.” One of the girls gasped.

“Ricky Wilson?!” she exclaimed, but another girl held up her hand to silence her.

“It couldn’t be. She just had one of her stupid friends call her and pretend to be –” she was cut off by the stage door opening and Ricky poking his head out.

“Ruby! There you are! Now come on inside and stop my worrying!” I looked back at the girls who were now staring at me open mouthed.

“Come on!” he said and waved me his way.

“Bye ladies,” I said and walked away. As soon as I made It halfway down the ramp, I could hear the girls throwing out insults at me, but only loud enough for me to barely hear them. When I reached Ricky, he grabbed me and kissed me. It wasn’t in my plans, but it did help in making the groupies mad. When we parted, he took my arm and pulled me inside.



*****



I spent the opening acts in the Kaiser’s dressing room. Nick had managed to get a television set in the room with proper cable. We were watching reruns of Mad TV, and the boys though that it was the funniest thing. Of course, I told the camera people to film all this; we could probably use it for something. The boys were rolling on the floor laughing, saying that they had never seen anything like it before. This was obvious, seeing as they were from the UK and Mad TV hadn’t quite broken ground over there yet.

As if by clockwork, the stage manager came into the dressing room as soon as the credits came on the screen. He told us that the band had just finished and that they had about twenty minutes to show time. The buys shut the TV, the cameras went off, and everyone went to get ready. I went with the editor to the side of the stage to watch the show. We didn’t have anything to do since the camera crew was obviously filming and the producer was by the sound board commanding to the camera people what shots to get.

“Enjoy the show, love,” Ricky said as the house lights dimmed and the band made its way on the stage.

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