To start it off, i'm kinda enjoying writing fanfiction. I really really actually have a lot of ideas for my normal article posts, but, I just don't feel like writing it. So, for the next couples of months, I'm going to just posting my dorky fanfictions. Sorry, really sorry.
And, I'm not a native English speaker so my grammars and vocabularies are a kinda... broken. It's okay to just leave comments to correct all the shit that I make. I really really would appreciate that.
Okay, this fanfcition is about Ben Bruce. I don't really listen to Asking Alexandria, but Ben is fucking awesome.
The "me" character here is not me. At all. Hahha. She's a girl named Emily, from Australia. She doesn't really listen to metal music, but her best friend is a metal whore, lol. She's in her second year of University, so she's like.. 19 to 20.
So this band called Asking Alexandria was coming to her city, her friend wouldn't waste the chance to meet them. Something happened, she needs to get to the backstage, but the only way she could get a pass to the backstage is to introduce herself as a groupie. So she fakes her name as Starla. And eventually she made it.
And she should had known that her life wouldn't be the same again.....
Okay let's just begin the story.
***
I'm With The Band part 1
Casts: Ben Bruce, Danny Worsnop, James Cassells, Me (Emily)
Setting: Sydney, Australia
I can't. I don't know. everything is blurry. I need some fresh air to figure out where I am and clear my sights. I hold out my hands and reach for things, but I have no idea what I'm touching. I can feel bodies, beer cans, and some more weird things. But I can't see it. My head is spinning like a carousel.
I crawl and crawl, trying to find a way out. Finally, my hand finds something that my brain approves as a door knob, so I struggle my way up and stand wobbly on my feet. I push the door knob and open it.
Loud music enters my ears. So deafening, so annoying. Before I can think about anything else, I find my self screaming on the top of my lungs. I want the music to just shut up and listen to my voice. I don't know where I am, who I am, I don't know anyone here. The last thing I remember is that I was with a boy, a beautiful boy. We were kissing, touching each other. And then there was a fight. Everybody was wasted. Somebody pushed me to the floor, I felt pain, and gone.
I walk my way to the end of the aisle, find an escape door, shove it hard and I can feel outside air brushes my face. It stings, like a knife, so cold and so sharp on my skin. I rub my eyes, now I get my sight back.
I'm on a side of a street. Alone. Nobody's here but me. I'm lost, stranded. I want to cry, just being miserable and cry. Where the fuck am I? Who brought me here? Who's responsible for this? I can feel pain all over my body, my face, my left leg.
I know I just cannot continue to walk. I drop my self to ground. I sit with my knees stuck to my chest and starts reminiscing everything.
Well... this guy. I was in love with this guys. He's such a jerk, son of a bitch, his name is.... Ben.
***
"Rock 'n Roll is dead, Sara. It's just, dead," I said.
Sara shrugged hard. "Okay if you think so, but let's just prove it. No evidence, no real."
We had been debating about this trivial thing for like three hours now. It all was started with Sara insisting that groupies still exist. That was kinda funny for me because the era of groupies had gone. And then everything went really far far away from the topic. And we started to shout at each other.
"How? How can we prove it?", I asked her with a condescending tone.
She raised one of her eyebrows. "We should sneak to the backstage."
I glared at her. "There's no fucking way. At least we have a backstage pass, or some kind of VIP passes which will cost us big money just to get them."
She shook her head and laughed. "We've got boobs."
"What?", I snapped. "It's not 1978!"
She laughed. "It is. 1978 is forever."
I stared at her, disbelieved. "So... how do we do it? When?"
She cleared her throat. "This band, a really perverted metal band called Asking Alexandria from England is coming here by weekend. We should try them."
"No. I don't listen to metal music anymore. I'm enough of it," I said.
"You're such a prude! All you listen to is fucking pop punk music that's why you don't believe in rock 'n roll anymore," she yelled.
"Because pop punk is better than your sex-and-drugs-fueled rock 'n roll!" I yelled back.
She sighed. "You're unbelievable. Whatever. You don't have to listen to their music at all actually. You just have to look extra gorgeous and slay the dudes and we're done."
"What wait? Me? No. I'm not a bitch. I'm not doing that. You're doing that. I'm going to just sit in the car, waiting for you 'slaying' them, bring me some proof that groupies do still exist and then I drive you home," I exclaimed.
She grinned. "Deal."
***
We had had our way to the front row. Nudging, hauling, shoving other screaming girls surround us. We held on to the iron barricade that separated us to the stage. Sara kept screaming the dudes' names, squeaking, squealing.
"Danny, Ben, Cameron, Sam, James! Fuck me! Get out!", she shouted.
I shook my head, almost all the time. Until all of the band members came out of the backstage and started to play.
I didn't even know any of their songs, at all. I was just stood there, stiff as steel, cold as ice as the other fan girls behind me moved like hurricanes. Sara was dancing like a whore, a fucking whore. And I could tell one of the band members, the guitarist, was looking at her. All the time. I got a little bit disgusted. This was just not my style, at all.
I stood still until the set was over. The band dudes started to throw away all of their stuffs, guitar picks, towels, water bottles. The guitarist, the one who had been looking at Sara, threw his water bottle to the crowd. And it hit my head, hard.
I raised my chin and looked up to the stage. The asshole guitarist was laughing, Sara noticed what had just happened and laughed at me. She glanced at the guitarist and the stinky skinny dude winked at her. I was close to throwing up.
When the stage had been cleared, Sara left me straight away to the backstage. A naughty smile was worn on her face, it made me sick. I just wanted to end this up, there were no such thing as groupies, there were only whores.
And my best friend was a whore. A band pussy. Whatever.
***
I waited, and waited, and waited. Forever. It had been four hours since she made it to pass the backstage guards. No sign from her. I was getting a little bit too worried.
No matter what, she was my best friend, I didn't want anything bad happen to her. The band dudes might drug her, kidnap her, rape her. Anything! Those guys were assholes, and I was sure about that. I knew that I should find her, and save her from all of this bullshit groupie thing.
So I got out of the car, walking warily to the backstage door. There was no way I could go in there. No way. I stood there, staring at the guards.They were big, hairy, noticeably muscular. There was no way I could beat the shit out of them and crashing in.
"So, you're a fan? You wanna come in? A groupie? Bad aid, band pussy... anything?" one of the guard suddenly asked.
I almost had said no and swore bad things to the guards before something popped in my head. Yeah, I could just pretend as a band groupie, go inside, take Sara, save her, and leave forever. But, I didn't look like a groupie at all. I wasn't wearing anything short, neither anything remarkably tight. In one simple glance, anyone would notice that I am not a groupie.
But why not trying?
"Yes. I am," I said. I wanted to just kill my self at the moment.
The guards frowned simultaneously. "What's you name?"
I knew I had been finished, it was not my game at all. I wasn't even pretty. And I had no idea for a name. But Sara was the only thing I could think about. "Sara," I said. I was so stupid.
"What? Starla?", one of the guards repeated.
Starla. Sounded bitchy enough for me. "Yes."
Guess what? They let me in.
I went to Asking Alexandria's dressing room right away. I could hear perpetual laughter from the inside. I had no idea what was happening inside. But then I heard Sara's voice. She sounded drunk. And it was not good. A drunk girl and a bunch of assholes. Not good at all.
I believed that I'm crazy, I had no doubt about that, because next, without hesitation, I pushed the dressing room door and called Sara's name out loud. All eyes turned to me, I felt really mortified. I just wanted to grab Sara and leave. I walked in with my eyes locked to the floor, I grasped Sara's hand but she jerked it away.
"Sara let's go, we should go!" I said. I tried to pull her off the couch.
She jerked my hand off of her again. "Chill. Sit down, here, beside me," she patted a space next to her. "Sit down, have some drink. We'll go home after that, I promise."
I sighed. All the band dudes said the same thing. I had no choice. I sat down next to her. A guy whom I remember was the vocalist handed me a glass of cold beer. I refused to drink it.
"Hey, girl. Chill. Drink," the vocalist told me.
"Drink. Drink. Drink," shouted the rest of the boys, except the asshole skinny guitarist next to Sara. He was just smiling.
Sara nodded. I knew I was being ridiculous. It was just a drink. It wouldn't hurt.
I took a sip. It tasted good. I took another sip. And another. And another.
I was an idiot. And the world started to pull back from my sight.
***
I woke up, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol was reeking in the air. It wasn't the smell of my room. It absolutely wasn't. Once I opened my eyes, I knew I was in a big trouble. I was lying inside one of the bunks in a moving tour bus. And whose else tour bus could it be but Asking Alexandria's?
I was kidnapped. By strangers. I needed to call the police.
I rolled out of the bunk, tried to find a phone, radio, anything because I knew my cell phone wasn't in my pocket anymore. Somebody caught me from the back. It was the bassist.
"Got you little princess. Where'd you going?", he put his arms all over my waist, pulling me to his side.
I could do nothing but scream. I kicked his leg, screamed again, hauled my self off of him, screamed again. He wouldn't let go off me. Until somebody walked casually into the bunks area. It was the asshole guitarist who had thrown a water bottle right to head last night.
"She's interesting, huh? Nobody says no to us," the asshole guitarist said.
The kinky bassist laugh. "Yeah. She could be our little pet in this tour. Our kangaroo."
They were not normal band guys, they were fucking criminals. "Get off of me!" I squealed.
"Chill, Barbie! Sam, let go of her. Let me take care of her," said the asshole guitarist.
The bassist laughed lightly. He kissed my cheek before he pulled away and handed me to the asshole guitarist. I attempted to run, but failed. The asshole guitarist got me.
"Make sure you take care of her right," the bassist added, ruffled my hair and scooted to the pantry.
"Let go of me!", I yelled to the asshole guitarist. "Where's my friend?!"
The asshole guitarist said nothing and brought me to the back lounge. He made me sat down on the couch and he stood in front of me.
"Why am I here?!" I shouted in despair. Tears almost ran down my face. I was shaking in fear and rage. This guy could do anything he wants. He could do really anything.
"Your friend has gone. We left her in the dressing room," he told me.
I shook my head. "And why you're taking me?"
He laughed. "You kept asking us to take you last night."
"Impossible!" I snapped.
"You did!" he snapped back.
"You drugged me!" I yelled.
"I didn't! Danny drugged you!" he shouted.
I leaned back and sighed. I was not the kind of girl whom guys like these like. Why the heck were they taking me? It was not my game, at all!
The asshole guitarist sat beside me, patting my lap. "Calm down. My friends aren't that bad," he said.
I said nothing. I had no word. My tongue was glued to my despair. I didn't know what to do.
"You stay here I grab you some food," he said and left.
I needed to just jump out of the bus. Death was better that anything else, better than being kept as a hostage by five perverted alcohol-fueled assholes.
End of part 1
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