Seb and Elena meet ...
Written for openveinwriting's October Comment Fic Party
The venue was quiet. The muted quiet that came in like the silence before a storm; the air still, simple noises only amplified. It was Elena's favorite time, favorite feeling. She loved standing in the center of the room, where the pit would open up, where the energy would focus.
The black hole would open here, she knew, and they would only circle it for the time spent on stage. Their energy would feed the universe, speeding up the collapse and then, just as soon as it would all begin, it would end. Things would begin with a bang but always, they ended with whispers.
A noise caught her attention and she glanced over. The security guard was getting ready to open the door. Hopping up on the stage, she scooted backstage, out of sight while their merch team took places at the table. Instantly, there was noise all around her. Elena smiled. Just as it should be.
Walking back toward the door that lead to where the buses were parked, her attention was caught by a tall, scraggly looking guy hanging out by the Falling Starlight rigs. Instantly, her hackles went up and she slowed her step, wondering how far she was from a security guard. There had been a guy following the tour and he hadn't broken any laws but they were taking him seriously.
"¿Hola?" She called, anxious. She could feel her heart pounding and suddenly wished that she'd taken Tucker up on his request to come into the venue with her for her pre-show ritual. Security was busy out front and the techs had somehow all disappeared and she was here with a guy who made the hair on the back of her neck stand at full attention.
"Well, I thought it was you."The voice was deep, bitter, tinged with something Elena couldn't place. Pain?
She swallowed. "Can I help you?" She wanted to ask him to come out of the shadows but she didn't want him any closer than he already was. Where the hell were the techs? Someone. Anyone. Why couldn't her boyfriend read her mind?
"The darling of the music world. Tiny and delicate but look at that big ol bass she wields. Precious. So fucking precious. Don't worry, kiddos. It's going to be okay. If you just listen to the gospel of Elena Munez. Get therapy, get help, write in your journals, find something to do. You'll be okay. What a fucking joke you are." He snorted and pushed off the wall where he was leaning and Elena took two steps backward. Once he stood in the light, Elena recognized him. Sebastian Noriega.
She'd followed his career - it was impossible not to. His accident and recovery was the stuff of music legend. His battle with addiction was something every magazine loved to pull up and walk in front of people when they wanted to highlight the problems with substance abuse in music. He wasn't a half bad guitar player, although she had more than a handful she'd rather work with, and had a feeling a lot of the hype over him had more to do with girls who wanted to get near his penis than any kind of real talent. Worse, the rumors about how he ran around on his very talented wife bothered her. Lang was something special and someone all the women of her generation looked up to.
This introduction wasn't exactly giving her cause to warm up to him either. Where the hell were the security guards?
She'd also heard rumor about his temper and she'd had enough of men and their fists for a lifetime. Taking stock of the path she'd need to travel to get to the door, Elena decided that back tracking was probably the best thing. Better to let the early bird fans see her scurrying across the stage than get trapped back here between rigs. Her mind flashed to every horror movie she'd ever seen. She fully expected him to snap her neck and leave her hidden in a case.
Playing it cool though, she held out a hand. "It's good to finally meet you, Sebastian. We always seem to just miss each other at events."
"Yeah, it's hard to get away from those adoring cameras, isn't it?" He snorted at her. She stepped back toward the stage. He snickered. "I'm not going to hurt you, girl. What? You looking for an easy way out? Thinking the big, mean, bad ol gimp is going to kick your ass like he should?"
She shivered. Fuck. What the hell? Was he drunk? Her phone. Pulling it out of her jeans pocket, she pretended to check it. She'd perfected the skill of texting while carrying on a meaningful conversation when she was in high school. BKStg. Now.She sent to Tucker, who was hanging out on her bus. He'd driven down to watch the show before taking to the road for his own tour. JJ and Micah were finishing up interview sessions with their endorsers.
"Actually," she rolled her eyes, pretending to blow off his attitude, "I'm wondering why you're here at all. You've made it more than clear any time anyone asks you about other bands that you think we're just about the worst thing you've ever heard."
"What? The "Female Flea" is getting snippy with me?"
"I'm just asking a question." She pocketed her phone as her tech came around the corner. Suddenly she was breathing easier. Locking eyes with Savannah, she was so glad the other woman understood exactly what she needed. Savannah came closer and busied herself pretending to check rigs that were already tuned. "You've made it clear you aren't a fan," Elena said, "So why are you here?"
"Wanted to see who kicked me off the bill for this tour. Wanted to see her live."
Elena swallowed nervously. "I didn't realize ... but you know that's how the business works." Falling Starlight had been dropped for bigger artists more than once. The artists might be in it for the music, but everyone else was about the bottom line and if money could be made putting them on a tour with some country artist, the labels would try to work it out.
"We've been around since before you were playing music. And here you are, telling me how the business works?"
"Well, it's clear you need a reminder." Where the hell was Tucker? She didn't think Sebastian would try anything with witnesses present but she wanted her boyfriend.
"First we're bumped from headline to support and then we're bumped all together? For what? Some little girl pretender who has never written an original riff in her life? Whose daddy and auntie clear the way for her to get whatever she fucking wants?"
Savannah dropped something and Elena recognized it for what it was, a reminder to Sebastian that there were witnesses to whatever he was saying. Elena wondered if he was high. Well, higher than usual.
"Fucking pop-metal passing itself off as rock music."
Okay, that pissed her off. She was used to the family criticism but her bass riffs were something she was proud of. She walked up to him, putting herself right in his personal space, daring him to get physical. "I've rocked harder in five minutes than you have in your whole fucking career. You whine to me about talking about my mental health issues while you preen in wanna be godlike photographs talking about how healed you are. Look at you and your magic self. You've clawed your way up. You've dealt with your daddy issues. Life is a fucking walk in the park now, isn't it? Tell me something, Sebastian, do any of your fans know how you did it? Do they want to connect to you in a way beyond that tiny little bulge in your pants? Do you get real with them? Do you sit there after a show and sign an autograph and when they come to you, crying, because their own father walked out on them, do you say you understand or do you just shrug it off and pour another one?"
Her courage riled up, she kept going. "I work my ass off and I do it harder than most because I know I have something to prove. I know that no one believes I got here on my own talents. That my daddy made all the calls and got me where I am. But you know what, fuck you. I was inspired by women like your fucking wife. A woman everyone in this business knows you are screwing around on, for the record. I bust my ass and practice and when I'm on stage, I give every fucking ounce of everything I am. So don't stand there, hopped up on whatever you are taking, and whine at me about daddy issues when you're still crying about yours."
Behind Sebastian, she saw Tucker appear in the doorway. She breathed a bit easier. "We should band together, you know. It's a fucking insane world we're trying to survive in. Skulking in shadows and whining about who gets what when and where is pitiful, immature, and only sets us back as musicians."
She pushed past him, no longer needing to escape to the stage. Turning back, she shook her head. "Last year at this time, we were headlining. Then, we opened for Seventh Sin. And then we fucking were on the second stage of the festival circuit at eleven in the morning. For this tour, we are again opening. That's how this business works and you should know that. God. Grow. Up. It isn't me you get to blame for being bumped from a tour. It's your own sorry ass."
Turning away, she walked over to Tucker, took his hand, and walked back toward the bus.
Her boyfriend chuckled. "Why did you need me again?"
The venue was quiet. The muted quiet that came in like the silence before a storm; the air still, simple noises only amplified. It was Elena's favorite time, favorite feeling. She loved standing in the center of the room, where the pit would open up, where the energy would focus.
The black hole would open here, she knew, and they would only circle it for the time spent on stage. Their energy would feed the universe, speeding up the collapse and then, just as soon as it would all begin, it would end. Things would begin with a bang but always, they ended with whispers.
A noise caught her attention and she glanced over. The security guard was getting ready to open the door. Hopping up on the stage, she scooted backstage, out of sight while their merch team took places at the table. Instantly, there was noise all around her. Elena smiled. Just as it should be.
Walking back toward the door that lead to where the buses were parked, her attention was caught by a tall, scraggly looking guy hanging out by the Falling Starlight rigs. Instantly, her hackles went up and she slowed her step, wondering how far she was from a security guard. There had been a guy following the tour and he hadn't broken any laws but they were taking him seriously.
"¿Hola?" She called, anxious. She could feel her heart pounding and suddenly wished that she'd taken Tucker up on his request to come into the venue with her for her pre-show ritual. Security was busy out front and the techs had somehow all disappeared and she was here with a guy who made the hair on the back of her neck stand at full attention.
"Well, I thought it was you."The voice was deep, bitter, tinged with something Elena couldn't place. Pain?
She swallowed. "Can I help you?" She wanted to ask him to come out of the shadows but she didn't want him any closer than he already was. Where the hell were the techs? Someone. Anyone. Why couldn't her boyfriend read her mind?
"The darling of the music world. Tiny and delicate but look at that big ol bass she wields. Precious. So fucking precious. Don't worry, kiddos. It's going to be okay. If you just listen to the gospel of Elena Munez. Get therapy, get help, write in your journals, find something to do. You'll be okay. What a fucking joke you are." He snorted and pushed off the wall where he was leaning and Elena took two steps backward. Once he stood in the light, Elena recognized him. Sebastian Noriega.
She'd followed his career - it was impossible not to. His accident and recovery was the stuff of music legend. His battle with addiction was something every magazine loved to pull up and walk in front of people when they wanted to highlight the problems with substance abuse in music. He wasn't a half bad guitar player, although she had more than a handful she'd rather work with, and had a feeling a lot of the hype over him had more to do with girls who wanted to get near his penis than any kind of real talent. Worse, the rumors about how he ran around on his very talented wife bothered her. Lang was something special and someone all the women of her generation looked up to.
This introduction wasn't exactly giving her cause to warm up to him either. Where the hell were the security guards?
She'd also heard rumor about his temper and she'd had enough of men and their fists for a lifetime. Taking stock of the path she'd need to travel to get to the door, Elena decided that back tracking was probably the best thing. Better to let the early bird fans see her scurrying across the stage than get trapped back here between rigs. Her mind flashed to every horror movie she'd ever seen. She fully expected him to snap her neck and leave her hidden in a case.
Playing it cool though, she held out a hand. "It's good to finally meet you, Sebastian. We always seem to just miss each other at events."
"Yeah, it's hard to get away from those adoring cameras, isn't it?" He snorted at her. She stepped back toward the stage. He snickered. "I'm not going to hurt you, girl. What? You looking for an easy way out? Thinking the big, mean, bad ol gimp is going to kick your ass like he should?"
She shivered. Fuck. What the hell? Was he drunk? Her phone. Pulling it out of her jeans pocket, she pretended to check it. She'd perfected the skill of texting while carrying on a meaningful conversation when she was in high school. BKStg. Now.She sent to Tucker, who was hanging out on her bus. He'd driven down to watch the show before taking to the road for his own tour. JJ and Micah were finishing up interview sessions with their endorsers.
"Actually," she rolled her eyes, pretending to blow off his attitude, "I'm wondering why you're here at all. You've made it more than clear any time anyone asks you about other bands that you think we're just about the worst thing you've ever heard."
"What? The "Female Flea" is getting snippy with me?"
"I'm just asking a question." She pocketed her phone as her tech came around the corner. Suddenly she was breathing easier. Locking eyes with Savannah, she was so glad the other woman understood exactly what she needed. Savannah came closer and busied herself pretending to check rigs that were already tuned. "You've made it clear you aren't a fan," Elena said, "So why are you here?"
"Wanted to see who kicked me off the bill for this tour. Wanted to see her live."
Elena swallowed nervously. "I didn't realize ... but you know that's how the business works." Falling Starlight had been dropped for bigger artists more than once. The artists might be in it for the music, but everyone else was about the bottom line and if money could be made putting them on a tour with some country artist, the labels would try to work it out.
"We've been around since before you were playing music. And here you are, telling me how the business works?"
"Well, it's clear you need a reminder." Where the hell was Tucker? She didn't think Sebastian would try anything with witnesses present but she wanted her boyfriend.
"First we're bumped from headline to support and then we're bumped all together? For what? Some little girl pretender who has never written an original riff in her life? Whose daddy and auntie clear the way for her to get whatever she fucking wants?"
Savannah dropped something and Elena recognized it for what it was, a reminder to Sebastian that there were witnesses to whatever he was saying. Elena wondered if he was high. Well, higher than usual.
"Fucking pop-metal passing itself off as rock music."
Okay, that pissed her off. She was used to the family criticism but her bass riffs were something she was proud of. She walked up to him, putting herself right in his personal space, daring him to get physical. "I've rocked harder in five minutes than you have in your whole fucking career. You whine to me about talking about my mental health issues while you preen in wanna be godlike photographs talking about how healed you are. Look at you and your magic self. You've clawed your way up. You've dealt with your daddy issues. Life is a fucking walk in the park now, isn't it? Tell me something, Sebastian, do any of your fans know how you did it? Do they want to connect to you in a way beyond that tiny little bulge in your pants? Do you get real with them? Do you sit there after a show and sign an autograph and when they come to you, crying, because their own father walked out on them, do you say you understand or do you just shrug it off and pour another one?"
Her courage riled up, she kept going. "I work my ass off and I do it harder than most because I know I have something to prove. I know that no one believes I got here on my own talents. That my daddy made all the calls and got me where I am. But you know what, fuck you. I was inspired by women like your fucking wife. A woman everyone in this business knows you are screwing around on, for the record. I bust my ass and practice and when I'm on stage, I give every fucking ounce of everything I am. So don't stand there, hopped up on whatever you are taking, and whine at me about daddy issues when you're still crying about yours."
Behind Sebastian, she saw Tucker appear in the doorway. She breathed a bit easier. "We should band together, you know. It's a fucking insane world we're trying to survive in. Skulking in shadows and whining about who gets what when and where is pitiful, immature, and only sets us back as musicians."
She pushed past him, no longer needing to escape to the stage. Turning back, she shook her head. "Last year at this time, we were headlining. Then, we opened for Seventh Sin. And then we fucking were on the second stage of the festival circuit at eleven in the morning. For this tour, we are again opening. That's how this business works and you should know that. God. Grow. Up. It isn't me you get to blame for being bumped from a tour. It's your own sorry ass."
Turning away, she walked over to Tucker, took his hand, and walked back toward the bus.
Her boyfriend chuckled. "Why did you need me again?"