Drake was in the local venue behind the scenes tuning his favorite guitar Amber. She was his Dean Custom 380. He hand wired all of the Dimarzio pickups she had, and screwed in the strap locks. She had his blood and sweat in her. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes when he was finished and whipped out his zippo and lit up taking a long drag filling his lungs with the sweet poison before puffing it out in the innocent air. He made his way to the front of the stage to rig up his Orange amps and make sure his whole rig was set and ready. He had asked his manager to book this venue for months and they had finally gotten it after all the begging. He looked out into the open wooden floor that would hopefully be filled in a matter of 30 minutes. This was going to be one of the shows to remember. And hopefully sell enough of their homemade t-shirts to get some gas money to get back home. He felt a smirk grow on his face just looking at the surroundings getting himself overwhelmed with excitement.

Jack was behind the stage patting out a beat on his leg as he sat on a worn old chair. He had done gigs before, some smaller, some the same size but he had been a teen then and everybody clapped because they were still kids really. Tonight would be different, he wouldn't be a man behind the scenes who just picked music for the 'fun hour'. He would be the icon and he was not going to screw this up. Normally he dealt well with pressure and he felt no different now, he was ready and had been since their manager had announced the gig. He had spent most of the night going over the songs in his head and out loud, to the annoyance of his room mate, even though he knew the songs well. Getting out of the chair he walked onto the stage as Drake was rigging up his amps.

"It's gunna be a good night, eh? I can already see the peoples faces. Of course I would say good luck but I know you don't need it."

Jack winked as he spoke.

"Anyways, how are the others doing, I would have thought they would setting up their gear by now. One thing I like about singing, nothing to set up."

Oh boy, ohhh boy, here we go again, another performance. Another time for Landon to go out on stage in front of all those people and show everyone the joy of the violin, electric and classic. He was nervous, like he always was. He supposed it was because he was still young, the others didn't ever looks as nervous as him, but when it came down to it Landon always played his part well and after about the first 5-10 minutes all the nerves were gone and it was just fun again. He walked onto the stage with his amp and cables for his electric violin and nodded at his band mates. "Everybody ready? Big night right here." He was always the quiet one but he was hoping he would be reassured by some words of yes big night but don't be nervous. He did a quick checklist on all his electronic equipment and gave his violin a quick test to make sure the tone was there. He nodded then satisfied sitting down on one of the chairs that hadn't been taken backstage yet and gently slid his regular violin from the case playing a part of Beethoven's 9th Symphony while tuning the strings to perfect pitch little by little.

He had always loved the sound of the violin and while he knew it was a well different kind of instrument to play for a band he enjoyed it and was glad his bandmates were ok with it. He finished and placed the green Violin beside him beside the electric and walked back to the other two.

Jack turned as Landon spoke, the boy was obviously nervous and tweaking with his instruments was definitely a sign of that. Jack had no doubt Landon had probably been tuning them for a while now, the troubles of being so young really. Patting the kid on the shoulder he gave Landon a wink as well.

"Look me in the face kid, it's gunna be fine out there. We all do are thing and they're gunna love you on the viomalin."

Jack never called it a 'violin'. It was a pretty odd instrument to have in a band and he liked it. So he was going to give it an odd name.

"And hey even if they don't like us it's me they're gunna be throwing shit at so you will get off scot free. That reminds me did you see where Ned put my suit? I asked him to bring it up and I should probably change into it."

Jack was currently wearing some black skinny jeans and a plain white tee however he always felt more confident in a skinny suit. There was something about it that made him feel classy no matter what they were playing. It could be Lucy's death metal and he would still wear a suit and feel good doing it. Patting Landon on the shoulder he wandered off towards backstage. Perhaps his suit was with the lighting equipment, he hadn't checked back there.

Lucy's amps we're set up on stage already. She had been there and set up silently and then gone back to get her weapon of choice, Lamashtu. Drake wasn't the only one who named his instruments. It was actually a pretty common practice in her experience. Less common was her own take on it; of naming one's instrument after ancient Babylonian demon queens & blessing the instrument in their name. 

It wasn't unheard of among the metal bands she had been a part of in the past but it wasn't actually common, even amongst them. It seemed that most of those types despised spirituality and sought physical pleasure above all else. Lucy Fire was a bit of an oddity. Her stage presence was always a bit more solemn and intense than it was hedonistic and passionate. Not that it was as noticeable as the guitarists' or singer's. But then it wasn't supposed to be. Bass was a foundational instrument. Not a lead instrument. It was generally up to her & the drummer to keep the rythm, tempo & energy of a song moving in proper time.

In the back of the building the metal chick prayed to and invoked the spirit of Lamashtu over her namesake. The time was upon her to deliver the pulse of the worlds lifeforce. After all, she reasoned, wasn't music the blood of nations if not entire civilizations?

"I'm ready," she anounced to Jack and Landon as she walked out onto the stage, clad in black leather and carrying her savage looking instrument. "This is gonna be a good set. I can feel it."

What was he doing here? He was the last freaking person to be getting ready for this. Ben should have been home doing something boring no doubt. Yet here he was. Getting ready to preform. Why in high holy hell was Benjamin Maximilian Curtis doing here? Well therein lies the story now isn't it.

What was the stereotypical rich boy doing in a band? He was doing what most people did at this age. Rebel. You see his father Ryan Curtis was a very rich and powerful man. So his plan was for his only son and heir to get everything. All of Curtis Industries and its holdings. Yet the boy did not want it. He wanted to make his own plan. To forge his own path. Well the rich boy still stuck. His middle name for a start. It could not get more preppy could it? Still it was his. The band did make fun of him for being sort of preppy. Not too much but old habits died hard.

Ben was sitting on the stool for his drum set. Unlike a lot of members he did not name his instrument. It was just a drum set after all. With out the drums and the bass a band was nothing. Jack could sing till he was blue in the face and Drake could play until his fingers bled; with out a beat they had nothing. Funny thing was that he and Lucy got that. He did not have an ego about it though. He tapped at the kit not really using it right now. He knew it was ready. Drumming was mostly about the drummer.

He yelled over to Jack "Hopefully Ned burned it and told you he left it by the lights. One can only pray." He joked. It was his job. Keep everyone's mood up. It was a thankless job, but somebody had to do it. "Damn straight it will be a good set." He told Lucy nodding his head solemnly. Then there was the violin player. One of these is not like the others, one of these does not belong. Okay that was not true. It could be worse. He was a nice kid. They all were one messed up family if you will. Well Ben liked to think so. "Anyone know how long till the start?" He asked walking back stage.

Drake just laughed to himself anyone in ear shot could hear him. He just couldn't help but laugh at the disgruntled batch of people that made the band. "God how the fuck have we made it this far? Here we are we got a nervous Yo Yo ma here on violin. We got Sharp Dressed man on the mic. Ritchy Rich on drums. Then we have the queen of the shadows giving us the low end. And then I look like someone out of a Nirvana video. I mean if you look at us nobody is hell would see us and think any of us were friends. The thing is we all are we though..." He took another long drag from his smoke and sat down at the edge of the stage and pointed out to the open floor. "When those lights turn on that drum starts to kick and the rest of us flow right into place none of that other stuff matters. I mean bloody hell floor may crack from all the panties and some boxers I guess dropping." He said continuing to laugh as the random outburst was just flowing out unfiltered. He loved it and nothing could stop it.

Drake wasn't just a big talker he proved it. Anybody that had seen him even in his room through a little practice amp knew he wasn't a joke. If you needed a Van Halen sound he cranked his amp up and double tapped the guitar until his fingers bled. If Jack had to leave stage for a bit he could pull out a Steve Vai inspired solo for hours until he got back. He knew he could too and yes sometimes he boasted about it too much but that was how he was. He had heard for so long he would never be at the level he was and now that he was, he let nobody forget it. He then picked himself back up and stomped out his cigarette. "The show should start in about 10-15 minutes I do believe." He walked over to Landon and rubbed his hair messing with him a bit. He liked Landon like a little brother almost. He played a stringed instrument like his but some consider his to not belong and Drake thought the opposite. The strings on a violin just have that sound that sounded like no other.He just laughed to himself as Ben talked about burning Jack's suit before turning to Lucy "Hey miss oddity want a smoke?" he said holding the pack out. "Another thing where is Candy? I haven''t seen our beloved stripper named rhythm guitarist in a bit."

They say that business had a language all to its own. The whispers and tongues that made million dollar deals happen, saints into sinners and sinners into Mother Teresa. Ned Attwater considered himself a respectable businessman and the language of sin and desire did he speak well indeed. He was currently situated at a table, about halfway between the bar, the stage and the door, the three focal points of human traffic, his view give him a near three hundred and sixty degree view of the venue. In all honesty the place was a shit hole, but it was a starting point to watch the birds leave the nest. Drake and his odd gathering of individuals had begged him for weeks to book the place, Ned knew the owners and it wouldn't be too hard to call in a favor but he had waited, he needed to be sure they were ready and finally they were ready, Ned felt it. So here they were in the land of cold wood floors stained with vomit and blood and the smell of cigarette thick as it wafted through the air.

Ned sat at the round table, cardboard boxes with shirts and even a few CDs all homemade of course laying within. The smell of his most recent cigarette coating each exhale he took as he talked to three young women standing across from him: a blond, brunette and a redhead. He was wearing those stupid pair of Aviators that seemed to be permanently attached to his face, stubble coating his face and a bright smile on his face. He was a lot of things but Ned was always a very personable person, he had the smile of a man that could make everyone in the room feel like his best friend in the world and the eyes that would tell you that it was best not to allow him too close at any rate. A lit Dunhill was in his right hand as he talked to the three women in front of him, his voice was smooth and deep as if his throat had been coated in a thick coat of whiskey.

"So how much will it take to get you three mademoiselles to take off your shirts?" Ned asked them with a grin on his face. He doubled back as the redhead brought her hand back ready to go in for the kill, the other two voicing their disgust in less physical ways. Ned put one hand up in front of him with a single digit up, the nonverbal just one minuet. He reached into one of the cardboard boxes in front of him labeled in almost illegible scrawl Shirts. He pulled three out, they were homemade out of Drake's garage with some financial backing from Ned as how it usually went. They were simple and clean nothing too fancy just with Out Of Thin Air printed being spelt out of the smoke coming out from a cigarette the one love that Ned and Drake could both agree on. He put the three shirts out on the table in front of the three girls as he began to speak.

"Girls, girls, girls relax! I may be a pervert, but I'm also a gentlemen and I would not throw myself upon you fine girls without first offering you a drink. No, I'm strictly talking business here. All I'm asking you to do is to wear the fine band that will be playing for you tonight shirts. So that others can see them and then want to buy some of there own, of course your "feminine assets" will not hurt in helping this process proceed, sex sells of course it will only be if you so desire. But think about in this way in the end I get some publicity for my merchandise and each of you get to meet President of the United States of America Mr. Ulysses S. Grant. So we all get to win?" Ned Explained as his went to his pants pocket and pulled out his wallet and out came three green bills as he put them on the table each on top of a shirt as he took a drag of the Dunhill. He watched as the three girls whispered to themselves and debated. His eyes gazed across the venue, it was starting to get more and more populated as the crowds off from work for the night began to come in. They had done some minor publicly around down the week leading up, a few flyers here and there nothing too big but anything to draw in a crowd.

The girls came to a decision and nodded to Ned as they took the money and the shirts off of the table. Ned broke out a full smile cheek to cheek his teeth white almost unnaturally to the point shining as he give a small laugh and nodded to the girls. "Oh well that is just lovely girls, I knew that you would pull through! Now all three of you go to the bathroom and change into those shirts, I didn't just pay you to stand around and looked pretty... Oh wait technically I just did. Anyway rapide, rapide! Maybe when the night is not so young, you can take those shirts off again from another reason."

Ned chuckled to himself as the three girls walked away towards the bathroom, the show would be started in no time at all and it was time to give his last parting words of advice to his chicks before they left the nest. He sauntered over to the stage seemingly gliding across the wood floor, his shoes seemingly never touching the ground. He stopped right in front of the stage and give them all a salute and half a grin before taking another drag from his Dunhill, as he exhaled a long lazy smoke ring danced across the open air before vanishing as it hit the stage lights. He looked them all over as he made a motion with his arm as he did his best to draw them all inwards to him as he prepared to give his pep talk. He cleared his throat, shook his head once left to right and then again right to left before he spoke.

"You all here? Good, great, fine whatever. I'm not the type to give encouraging speeches before the big game; I would be a terrible little league coach in the movies. I want to make that perfectly clear. But this being your one and only chance, I figured that I might as well take a swing at it. Months of our time have gone into planning and preparing for this gig, and let me be flat out and say this if you guys bomb you will have little to no chance at keeping this band afloat here or anywhere for that matter. No pressure of course. But that is not going to happen today, today they are not going to throw beer bottles and hurl insults at you, today will be the start of something." Ned stopped talking as he walked to his left a few paces to a wall covered in photos of a myriad of different bands, the names of the band and the band members scribbled around the photos.

" This here gentlemen and ladies is the Wall of Fame. Twenty local area bands had their start here and manged to get the hell out of here, the made it in varying degrees of stardom. You and I both know that y'all have the ability to become number twenty one. This is the moment that will deiced the rest of this band's life. I understand this place is a shit hole in the middle of nowhere, but tonight you will make it your shit hole. You have a little bit less then ten minutes before you start. Godspeed and Good Luck. And as they say back in the old country Don't Fuck Up." And with those "inspiring" words of wisdom, Ned give the band one last salute before he turned and walked away back to the table, his cigarette lighting the murky darkness around him as the last embers died out. The last words the band would hear from him till after their set was over was simply.

"Sabrina! Another Irish Car Bomb!"

skieth said
"Another thing where is Candy? I haven''t seen our beloved stripper named rhythm guitarist in a bit."

"Psh! Stripper? Really Drake?" Behind Drake humorously quipped a young woman, slightly shorter than him, with a playful but well deserved slug on the guy's shoulder. Well she guessed being a stripper was better than looking like some Kurt Cobain knockoff, then again Out of Thin Air was one hell of an eclectic ensemble. It amused Candace how a group like this could function so well, so many different music backgrounds and definitely so many differentiating personas. The one Candace could seem to get along better with was Lucy, but that was simply for their die-hard love of all things metal, given that Lucy's tastes were a bit more extreme than Candy's. The stripper crack from Drake might've come though from how the rocker was dressed, fishnet stockings tattered and torn, a black leather miniskirt with a bullet belt clad around her waist, and an old Metallica: Master of Puppets tank that was torn at the navel, exposing her belly no less. But that was Drake, always the card of the band and definitely brought the charisma to the stage.

Giving a nice, "Sup guys." to the rest of her bandmates, Candace lugged her guitar and her Spider Amp across the stage, wiring it up in a matter of seconds to the rest of her rig and tuning it in for tonight's gig, which she could feel in her heart was going to be the best gig of their lives. Any gig was like that to Candace honestly. The roar of the crowd, the blasting mayhem of her insane riffs through a heavily cranked amp culminating so beautifully with the dark and sinister growls of Lucy's bass and the thundering fury of Ben's drums, it was such a euphoric sound to her, a noise like no other so full of life and energy. Oh yeah, tonight was gonna be kick-ass! A bit of a confident grin crossed her face as she plugged her cherished Gibson into her sound rig, hearing the resonant ring of the strings she struck come in nicely on clean before she kicked it into distortion. For the moment, she had her instrument in drop D, practicing a few riffs and whatnot at home, but just a slight turn on the sixth and back in E she was, fiddling around with her guitar and marveling at the power behind it. For some reason, she started playing the main riff to "No Remorse," a favorite song of her favorite band, however ceased when their manager began speaking in his wise and somewhat cynical way.

This was the big one alright, the gig that would finally shoot Thin Air into the major leagues or....fuck 'em over, which Candace was hoping wasn't what would happen. There was a bit of pressure on her, but no need to freak out. Just get up there and show the world who you are and have a good time while you're at it.

Lucy turned down Drakes cigarette. She saw a lot of deaths in her family from smoking. More to the point she saw the hideous decay of bodily function as her aunts, uncles and grandparents aged. There was a certain grace of old age that smoking destroyed. Which was not to say that she wouldn't partake of the occasional joint. But then pot was known to destroy the mind rather than the body. And Lucy's mind was sharp enough that it could handle an assault every once in a while.

And then came the militant speech from Ned. Smalltime band manager or WWII platoon leader? The world may never know. Either way however, she spent the time plucking out something like Burton's Bass Solo on Kill 'Em All while taking in the simultaneous inspiration from their manager's words and Candy's legs. She got quite subtle and rhythmic once Ned got to the part about the wall of fame and then she gave his end some extra intensity wth her dark ominous tones.

She wasn't too shocked about the varied styles of everyone in the band. They all made sense together in her mind. Two metalheads & a rocker on strings, a rich rocker on drums, a rich prodigy on violin & a rock dj good at playing the perfect gent singing. In Lucy's mind they were all merely different manifestations of the same thing; the noble conquering spirit which led savage tribes to war, developed into fuedal kingdoms, mastered the sciences of earth and mind, gave rise to industry, nuclear weapons, space travel and computer technology, and still had a hunger for more. 

And since it was almost time to begin & she didn't see the singer anywhere, she chirped in "Did jack find his tux yet?"

Jack had missed Ned's speech. His suit wasn't to be found anywhere and after around ten minutes of looking he found it scrunched up in the back next to the empty amp cases. Disgusted at how anybody could treat his suit like that he had kicked off at the closest help. Shouting abuse he had clipped the lad around the ear and sent him on his way before finding a quiet corner and slipping into his beloved outfit. It was a plain suit, black with a clean white shirt. He didn't wear ties, constricted his throat too much and reminded him of school. His smart black leather shoes seemed to clip clop on the wooden floor and he looked totally out of place in the shit hole they were playing in. He didn't care though, this was his time to shine and damned if he was going to let the location ruin it. Taking a final spin in the mirror he began to walk back to the stage. He saw Ned walk off the stage as he came around to the rest of the band.

"...But do I wanna know..."

Humming the lyrics to the Arctic Monkeys song he sauntered up to his band mates and slapped a hand on the shoulder of Candy.

"I would love it if we could go one show without you giving all of the male audience an erection when you get up there. How you doing love? I didn't see you before I got changed."

"Eh...been better, James Bond." Candace replied with a bit of a shrug feeling Jack's hand land on her shoulder. Surprised her a bit since she was too entranced with her instrument and with Lucy jamming out to "Anesthesia" on her wicked black bass, more akin to a hellish war axe than a subtle stringed instrument, which she adored of her fellow metalhead. The spirit of Cliff would be proud. While the queen of shadows summoned forth the illest melodies of horror imaginable upon her bass, Candace chimed in on her Gibson with a bit of improvising, a few open strings, a few palm mutes in between and it just flowed so naturally. Yet she didn't forget Jack's little stripper crack at her, same as Drake, she rolled her eyes in her reply, "Yeah well hopefully we can get through half of the set before you're neck deep in panties, Jack."

She gave their singer a sly grin before focusing back on her instrument, her fingers gracefully inching across the neck of the guitar and striking every chord with musical precision. It was close, the show was about to kick off with a bang, and there would be Thin Air, front and center. Though she looked very composed wielding her weapon of choice in sound check, Candace couldn't help but be flustered insanely on the inside. Still she continued her little jam session with Lucy, matching the guttural growls of the blonde's bass with the raucous scream of her guitar.

Ben was so dang bored right now. It was so dull having to just sit around waiting. He was bored and as usual he was being ignored. The drummer was to be seen not heard. The prima donnas.... Well that was unfair There were none but being the drummer had its perks. They did not notice when he was watching them or looking at them as they went around. He could basically learn every thing about them without them even knowing. Not that he wanted to always be ignored. Like how his stab at Jack's suit was completely ignored. Not even a nod or a phrase. He was sort of pissed that Jack decided just to hit on Candy and not say anything to him. Not that he was important or anything. No sexual tension with Candy was better. Whatever. He was sort of annoyed that this was how he was treated.

Drake made his way to Ben while passing by Candy "And one of those panties is going to be yours." He said pointing and giving a a small laugh. He made his way over to Ben since Drake wasn't really one to practice much before a show he liked to surprise everybody. "So Richie Rich Ben hows it going man. You looking to go home tonight with anybody?" he said looking at his drummer. Drake may be a dick but he cares about this band. He liked the sound of the drums and the bass. Without that Drake had nothing to passionately stop his foot to. He loved the drums especially rolls like Austin Thorton. He needed that rhythm to help him get into his stage mood. When the drums start Drake wasn't the same person everything else just flowed after that.

Damn Drake... He always seemed to detect waves of bad mood wafting off of him. Must be a leader skill. He counted Drake as their lead. Lead guitar was after all important. Singing was nice too though. Drake was a nice guy. Ben prided himself on being a good judge of character. Sort of. Again watching skills. He looked at Drake. "Richie Rich? Okay you got me there. " He said laughing. There went the bad mood. He was still ticked but now he could do his thing. "Just my usual pompous self. You know I'm hocking up with some random chick. They can't resist the drums. Though I have to say you are going to have to fight them off. Competition between you and 007 over there." He said joking. He always lived the combo of drums and guitar. It was glorious to say the least.

Jack had been having a good time all evening and despite the fact he looked totally out of place around them he knew that there was only good feeling between them. The jokes about his suit always made him laugh, if James Bond and 007 were the worst they could come up with he was happy to go along with it. Furthermore Candy's joke about girls panties made him laugh.

"Hey, I can't help it if the ladies love a man in a suit. Despite that more colourful exterior you know you love a man in a suit too."

Just then Drake came passed and made his comment. That just put him in an even better mood.

"Drake, you must know that I respect our ladies panties, I stick to those who I don't know."

Drake was a good guy and definitely kept the band together well. Even including the pompous arse on the drums. Ben was a good guy but Jack just felt he hadn't experienced the real world enough to be a good friend.He got on with the guy and knew he could trust him however he would never consider himself a true friend until Ben got a taste of real life. Jack had spent nights hungry and on the street chasing music whilst Ben could just call daddy and he would be fine. This was when Ben made the comment on him being 007. God they loved to mock the suit.

"C'mon Ben, there is no need to mock the suit just because all you can find is whatever me and Drake don't pick up."

Jack winked and continued.

"In all seriousness don't be worrying about that. You don't need a women to be happy...it just helps. Perhaps I can teach you my magic later. Now is it time we go on? I am buzzing"

He was addressing the band now.

It wasn't that Candace was intentionally ignoring Ben. She actually found some of his wisecracks at Jack to be hilarious. Merely, she was just too absorbed and passionate over her music to give a response at the time. The others however, she had plenty of slings and arrows left for them. Taking a little break to let her hands rest before the show, she set her guitar next to her stack and stood to stretch her limbs, a bit of relaxing before the main event kicked off, but upon stretching and giving a yawn, her tank top rose shortly, giving another generous peek of her skin. Good God she did dress like a stripper, but fuck it. She didn't really give a shit what Drake or Jack thought about her revealing attire, mostly just blowing off their little cracks and jabs. Still wearing her snide grin, that one that says You just wish you could go home with this, but too bad for you., she glanced over to Drake after he claimed her panties would be around Jack, to which she replied, a little charisma behind her, "Who said I was wearing any?" and a sly wink towards the end. In truth she was though. She might look like a whore but she sure as hell wasn't flashin' no beav' around these guys. Besides, she was well....playing for the other team, so to speak, giving a smile towards Lucy.

But when the subject came to "Who are you going home with tonight?" she immediately yanked her eyes away from the metal queen, so as not to give the wrong impression, but her pale cheeks were already blazing hot. Lucy was a good friend of hers, yeah, and well.....eventhough she didn't want to admit it outright, Lucy was well.....she was hot, like Angela Gossow hot, the perfect body and everything. Damn, she could sure as fuck use a distraction now. Thankfully the conversation switched with Jack wondering when the gig was going down. Candy had to think the same. When were they going on? It was an important night to her as much to her other bandmates, and the sooner she heard the roar of the crowd, the better. "Hey Richie, mind giving me a beat?" Candy said to the pompous Ben behind the drums.

Once the beat kicked in, she joined on her favorite instrument, momentarily tuning down to her accustomed drop-D and picking out a nice hard bluesy riff, but with enough crunch and power behind it to still be heavy

Landon just watched silently as the rest of his band mates entered the stage. He smiled at Drake nodding after he left, Landon looked up to Drake like a big brother for sure and it helped that he was also the ex factor leader of the band. Landon went back to his violin's and triple checked everything was good to go then ran the set list through his mind again. He of course knew the songs by memory and just settled back into the seat and awaited for the doors to open and the magic to begin. When their manager came down to offer some supportive words Landon listened respectfully as he was taught and was determined to not let the band down.

Lucy had been zoned out playing and hearing notes instead of words while the conversation was going on around her. She heard rhythm and tone and emotion instead of sentences because all of that had begun to fade into the background. She was speaking back in the notes she played. A steady legion of low tones maching out from her battle axe. But the tones slowed down and sped up.

But, truly, she was in and out of focus. Flitting between hearing phrases and feelings. Her arpeggios boasted of how she could beat any of her band mates in the realm of getting panties to drop. Her squealing jazz line replied lustfully when Candy hinted that she wasn't wearing any. She mocked Bach when Jack mentioned mocking a man in a suit.

It was a hypnotic thing. She couldn't exactly stop, but eventually tapered off into a slow rhythmic pulse. And then she caght that look from Candace. Not the smile. The way the younger girl suddenly looked away with reddened cheeks. With that cue, the bassist slowed down further plucking out an imitation of a human heart beat for at least ten seconds too long before stopping.

Finally back in a somewhat normal state of conciousness, Lucy was able to check the time. Doors were about to open. Everybody looked ready. And then the rhythm guitarist started jamming out with Ben. It was starting to seem like they might be opening their set with a jam session.

She stepped back, watching, listening and ready to jump in if everybody else seemed willing to improvise for an opener tonight. If Candace and Ben got something good going, she might just join in anyway. It was a good night to make bold moves. And Lamashtu seemed hungry.

He heard Jack's comment to Ben and raised an eyebrow. Drake may be an ass but he never usually with honesty brought someone down. He could tell when his band mates were down. He nudged Ben in the arm. "Just tell the girls they don't call you Big Ben For nothing and they will be all over you man. Plus I'm already trying to get candied ass over there." Points at candy with his thumb. "So you should have a few that make the bottom of the pyramid. Anyways I think we should get this show on the road soon." He looked at Candy as he made his way to the front of the stage and saw a blush as she saw Lucy. He heaved a sigh with a smile on his face "To each their own" He chuckled under his breath. Instead of acknowledging the facts he decided to act as if he didn't have a damn clue. "If your not wearing any then what the hell am I supposed to save in the chest of fame" He said laughing.

He then found his spot at the front of the stage and stood waiting for the doors to open. He turned to Landon "You ready over there Yo Yo Ma!" He then turned to his rhythm team "How about you guys. Ready to blow a couple windows out?" Then he finally turned to Jack. "And Choir Boy You better be ready to sing a lung or two out." He said sticking his tongue out. After that all that was left was giving a thumbs up to their manager to open the doors and let the dollar sign come rolling in and the show of their future to begin.