Hey there, this originally started off as a one-shot that I was going to lump together with a bunch of other one-shots but instead it turned into a full-fledged story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy, thanks for reading!

Warning: strong language, mention of drug use

Disclaimer: I do not own Detroit Rock City...only Sherrie and my other OCs! And yes, the chapter title is taken from The Runaways song of the same name.

Chapter 1

School Days

Cleveland, Ohio, December 1978

It was the last day of school before Christmas break at Robert F. Kennedy High School as the student body practically rushed to their selected methods of transportation. The school halls were empty in a matter of seconds as the school bell rang, leaving behind nothing but torn sports banners and confetti from the recent pep rally. Among the stragglers were the aspiring band members of Mystery, a Kiss tribute band.

Jam, the drummer of their band, sat on a bench in the designated smoking area of RFK High, surrounded by his band mates as he looked at his friend, Sherrie's, report card. It was the end of the semester and their band had big plans for the winter break, they had finally gotten a few gigs performing at bars and birthday parties, nothing huge, but for a high school band, it was to be expected. Trip, a known slacker and delinquent, had announced to everyone at the beginning of the semester that he was going to start taking school a little more seriously, he had said that his eyes had been opened to the idea in Detroit, something that made Hawk and the others laugh uncontrollably. But believe it or not-with help from Jam-Trip had come through with straight C's, something that was unheard of for the reefer head. Sherrie and the others had looked at him in awe and had even applauded him. Now Sherrie waited for her moment of truth, looking at Jam with trepidation, her hands clasped together anxiously as she looked over her test scores with him. Jam was eager to know if his tutoring had helped her and had asked for the yellow slip of paper the moment she arrived. Unfortunately, he was oblivious to the hesitation in her movements when she'd handed it to him. She bit her cherry lips, frown lines forming on her face as she read, '100 in English, 98 in Physical Education and...'

"You got a 30 in math!?" Jam exclaimed as he looked over Sherrie's test scores. Sherrie smiled sheepishly, suddenly embarrassed, especially after Jam had taken time out of practicing his drums to help her study for her midterms.

"Well maybe, but I've got a whole 'nother semester to make it up before it actually counts right?" She heard Hawk chuckle beside her as he patted Trip on the back, exhaling a trail of cigarette smoke as he did so,

"Congratulations Einstein!" He said to Trip, "Your math scores are higher than Cherry's!" Sherrie balked at Hawk's use of her oh-so-endearing nickname as Trip pumped both fists in the air,

"Yeah! Alright man, I'm not the dumbest!" Trip cheered. "I'm gonna celebrate with a bag of shrooms when I get home man!" Lex looked down his nose at Sherrie, more than a little perturbed as a look of disbelief came over his face,

"Now you're the dumbest! How the hell do you score lower than this pothead? He used to sleep through all of his classes for fucksake!" He scolded her, sounding genuinely angry. Lex was always prone to nervous outbursts, so it didn't upset her in the least, though she did feel a sense of disappointment in herself for making him worry about her, she often countered those sort of feelings with a smart-ass remark or two.

"How you ask? Oh it's quite easy-" Jam interrupted Sherrie's comeback with,

"Sherrie, if you hope to make it through next semester you're going to have to work twice as hard and learn the material you didn't learn this semester on top of the material you have to learn next semester." He said seriously. Sherrie pouted, slumping her shoulders in defeat,

"Oh, how am I supposed to do that? We've finally got some gigs and I have to spend winter break doing math homework?" Jam nodded,

"Yeah, if you hope to pass your junior year in high school." He said matter-of-factly, causing Sherrie to sigh dramatically, easy for him to say, Jam had straight A's. "I tried to help you with this stuff but maybe I wasn't explaining it in a way you could understand?" He asked, feeling guilty, "Maybe if Lex and I put our heads together we could find a way to help you..." Jam started, causing Lex's head to snap up at the sound of his name.

"Hey hey, what do you mean 'Lex and I'? No way man, Sherrie got herself into this mess, it's her own responsibility to get herself out! And besides Jam, you gave up drum practice in order to teach her this stuff, if she didn't pay attention the first time do you really think she'll pay attention the second time around?" There was no way he was going to give up his free time because someone was too lazy to learn the material! She was ungrateful and spoiled, and Lex felt that she needed to learn her lesson. Sherrie felt her temper rise at Lex's pointed statement, 'I know I should have been paying more attention, but he doesn't have to be such a hard-ass about it!' She thought, glaring at her hunched over, dark-haired friend.

"How am I supposed to make up the work if I don't know how to do it!?" She exclaimed. Lex tossed a large textbook at her, the large block letters read: "Advanced Algebra".

"Read the book." he said before turning his back to the group to grab his books. Sherrie glared daggers at his retreating back, feeling indignant,

"Okay, then you can forget about having me on lead guitar, I'll be busy studying!" She shouted angrily, announcing it to the others as if she were leading a MATMOK rally. She grabbed her bag and headed towards her shiny new convertible, a gift from her grandmom, "Oh and you can all forget about your ride home too! You can take the bus like the fucking burnout losers you are!" She shouted, her real anger was for Lex, but the band was one entity, it wouldn't matter if she hurt Lex individually, she had to hurt them as a group in order to make any sort of impact. If there was one thing Sherrie was known for, it was her short fuse, and Lex just lit it. Hawk was the first to speak up,

"Thanks a lot Lex, now what are we gonna do? There is no one within a thousand miles of this place who can shred like Sherrie and there's not exactly a guarantee on your mom letting us use the Volvo to get to our gigs!" Trip seemed a little hurt at the former statement,

"Hey what about me? I can shred too!" He argued, referring to his mediocre guitar skills. Hawk started laughing,

"Yeah, and I've got a fuckin' monkey's tail! The point is Lex, none of us can learn Sherrie's guitar solos in time, and since you're the one who pissed her off, you're the one who's gotta fix it." Hawk finished, glad as hell that he wasn't the one to do it. Sherrie's temper was legendary, especially when it was aimed at him. It was no secret that Hawk and Sherrie shared a mutual hatred for each other. Hawk had declared himself long ago the indisputable leader of their group and Sherrie hated being pushed around, especially by someone whom she had once described as lecherous white trash. Though Hawk's contempt for Sherrie had seemingly faded away the moment she'd walked through the doors of their high school earlier that semester. He had commented about what a fox she had become in the two years she was away and was always calling her by that perverted nickname, 'Cherry', a remnant from middle school, and a play on her name, that had originally been formed to remind her that she was blatantly virginal and thus, a prude. Lex suspected that it was Hawk's twisted way of flirting with her because he only called her by that name when she was around. More than once Lex could have sworn he'd caught Hawk admiring his childhood friend's long, shapely legs. Lex would never admit it out loud, but he secretly agreed with him. Sherrie had gone from a skinny, knobby kneed girl with short, unkempt black hair-damaged from her many different dye jobs and cut haphazardly with her amateur hairdressing skills-to a long legged, icy blonde with a pair of luscious red lips and a rack that made guys socially retarded when she came within a five foot radius. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't noticed what a babe she'd become. In fact, he-her best friend since they were in diapers-had barely recognized her when she'd waltzed into school the first day of their junior year of high school.

One semester ago, September 1978, first day of Junior Year

Sherrie Winters, formerly known as Sherrie Merle, sat in the back of her grandmother's black Bentley, her hands folded demurely in her lap. 'Demure' was a word that never would have described her in middle school, if anything, she had been uncultured and uncouth, a child of rock n' roll with a mother whom was an active vegan feminist. Sherrie's mother had met an untimely death two years before when a large semi truck rolled and crushed her Volkswagen beetle into a bizarre coffin. She'd been at school when it happened...her last day of middle school. Two police officers were waiting for her when she got home, along with all the friends and family her mother had invited to what was supposed to be a surprise party to celebrate her and her friends' graduation from middle school. She broke down in tears as she listened to them explain the accident, not only for her mother but also because she realized she was officially an orphan. Her father had died when she was a little girl from a brain tumor and now she had lost her mother too. Lex's mother, Kyle, had agreed to take Sherrie in until she was eighteen as she and her mother had been close friends since Sherrie's family had first moved to Ohio and Sherrie-to her knowledge-had no other family. Sherrie had lived with them for a week until an estranged uncle she'd never met came knocking on their door dressed in khakis, a white polo shirt and a pair of expensive shades. He was her mother's brother, Uncle Jimmy Winters, from Massachusetts. He had shown up out of the blue and told her to pack a bag of necessities because her grandmother had gotten legal custody of her, something that he hadn't seemed too happy about. And just like that, Sherrie had flown to the east coast to meet the grandmother whom she had been previously informed was deceased. She had always wondered if when her mother had told her her grandmother was dead if she had meant dead to her. Her mother was so much unlike the woman sitting next to her now that she would have seriously doubted that they were mother and daughter had she not seen the proof. Her grandmother reminded her of the Queen of England as she sat to her left, dressed in all of her finery. She made a day out driving look as if she were going to a gala ball with her diamond jewelry and expensively tailored dresses. Her mother had worn faded t-shirts, cutoff shorts and hemp bracelets. If Sherrie recalled, her mom had only owned a single silver cross and maybe two fancy dresses, both reserved for their church's Sunday service. Her mom may have been laid back and lenient, but she took her religion very seriously. Sherrie had worn her mom's cross around her neck since the day she died, to remind her of her mother and not to lose herself in the world of materialism that was her grandmother's life. Sherrie's grandmother, Marilyn Winters, was once a strait laced, religious woman until her unruly granddaughter showed up and made her realize the mistakes she'd made with her own daughter, who was now buried in their family mausoleum next to her late father. Sherrie may have been rough around the edges, but she was certainly her daughter's daughter and just the remembrance of Sherrie's mother had lead to Marilyn loving her granddaughter more than she'd ever thought possible. When Sherrie had first come to live with her, Marilyn was doubtful that she could ever turn the loud-mouthed street urchin into a cultured young lady worthy of her family name. However, Sherrie hadn't put up much of a fight once the loss of her mother had truly set in and she eventually succumbed to her grandmother's wishes to turn her into a debutante. Imagine that, a rock n' roll girl who idolized Joan Jett forced to put on a plastic smile, curtsy and rub elbows with a bunch of rich people. Being fake was something Sherrie hated, but she had done it for the sake of her only living family. Truthfully, Marilyn Winters had come to trust her granddaughter more than her own son, who seemed to care more about his yacht and his social life than about his poor, elderly mother. She had often regretted the decision she had made years ago to disown Sherrie's mother when she had run away to marry a mere construction worker. It seemed that God had given her a second chance and had opened her eyes to how greedy and undeserving her son was when she had learned of her granddaughter, Sherrie. James himself had no children and never planned on having any, he was a renowned womanizer and wouldn't change now matter how much she urged him. James didn't know it yet but she intended Sherrie to inherit the whole of her fortune, something she knew he'd been after for a long while.

The Bentley came to a gentle stop as it arrived at RFK High School. Sherrie sighed in relief as she realized they were early and there was hardly anyone around. She absolutely hated the attention she got when people saw that she was loaded. People who hated her suddenly became her friends when they were told how rich her family was...it made her sick to say the least. She still couldn't believe that she was back home, it was all so surreal to her. Her grandmother, pleased with the lady her granddaughter had become, had told her granddaughter that she'd grant any request. Without missing a beat, Sherrie requested to continue her education at Robert F. Kennedy High School back in Cleveland, Ohio. Her grandmother was surprised at her granddaughter's request, she had expected something along the lines of a brand new yacht or a ruby necklace, nothing so mundane as returning to high school in Cleveland. However, Sherrie reminded her that she had said she'd grant any request...

Her grandmother made it perfectly clear of what she thought of the school when the Bentley came to a stop,

"Dear, are you certain you want to spend your time with all this unwashed youth?" She said, utterly disgusted as she held a lace handkerchief over her nose as she looked around at the early kids lingering around the school's entrance. "It's not too late to turn around and go back to Massachusetts, Sherrie. There are many many private schools that I will only be too happy to send you to dear." Her grandmother pleaded. Sherrie shook her head.

"Grandmom, I'll be fine, this is what I want, all of my friends are here. I couldn't ask for more." Her grandmother was still getting used to Sherrie's new name for her, 'Grandmom', it was more of an intimate name than she was used to, perhaps a little too casual and disrespectful for her strict upbringing, nevertheless, she adored it.

"Yes of course darling, but you have friends back in Massachusetts as well. And you know, Chet will miss you terribly." Her grandmother hinted, blushing like a school girl. Sherrie could have hurled at the mention of Chet. Chet was a disco-loving, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, rich boy. He was currently enrolled at Harvard and her grandmother loved him. Since meeting him, Sherrie had worked vigilantly to find some kind of fault in the Prince Charming to no avail, the man was perfect. He had been nothing but kind to her, which unfortunately was a huge turn off for Sherrie. Seriously, there must have been something wrong with her, but she reasoned that she couldn't live her life with someone who hated rock music and didn't know her for her real self. As a result, there was no way she'd ever agree to the marriage arrangement her grandmother wanted to set up between them-no way in hell. She may have been a debutante, but deep down she was still the wild child who loved puffing on a joint while she listened to angry girls sing about things their parents hated. She sighed as she reached for the door handle,

"Grandmom I'm going to be late for my first class, I'll see you at home." She smoothly lied before kissing her grandmother on the cheek and stepping out of the Bentley. She stood on the steps leading into her school and watched the expensive car drive away, waving to her grandmother as it did.

Sherrie was nervous as she stood outside of the school. She hadn't seen or heard from Lex or any of the other guys since her uncle had taken her away and she wondered if they would hate her for looking like a total stella, something she had once avoided like the plague. 'Lex..' She hadn't seen her best friend since the day she left. She smiled as she recalled when he'd tried to stop her uncle from taking her away. Even though he was a weak, almost nerdy guy with no muscle, he'd tried to duke it out with her uncle only to nearly get his ass kicked. She had stepped between them before her arrogant uncle had broken the poor guy's legs. Sherrie remembered looking down at Lex as she got into her uncle's 1974 Ferrari Dino, he'd looked so downtrodden as he'd stared up at her pitifully, tears and blood running down his face as she told him goodbye. She wondered if he ever forgave her for leaving. She took her compact out of her bag and checked her makeup for the tenth time since arriving. Her signature red lipstick had been replaced by strawberry pink lipgloss and her heavy black eyeliner was traded in for light mascara and pink eyeshadow for a more natural look. She tousled her blonde curls and bit her lip nervously, remembering full well how the girls treated her in middle school. Despite her grandmother's protests, she had refused to put on a dress or wear platform shoes, there was no way she was going to face Lex and the others wearing something like that! Instead she wore a pair of brown clogs, they weren't her beloved converse sneakers, but they'd do. Her outfit was complete with a peachy-pink peasant's blouse and a pair of tight blue bell bottom jeans. It was definitely a stella-ish outfit, but she couldn't do much about it, her Grandmom had gotten rid of anything of hers that was grungy or tomboyish and had every piece of black eyeliner she owned melted down. She was even forced to get rid of her Joan Jett 'do along with her black hair color in favor of the natural golden blonde locks she had forsaken years ago. Butterflies swirled around in her stomach, now was the moment of truth when she'd finally step into the high school she was meant to step into two years ago. She walked through the door, garnering many stares as she did. To her surprise and utter relief, nobody had recognized her or called her out. For the first time in a long time, nobody saw her as the ugly, wiry little burnout girl, or tried to charm her into being their friend because of her social standing, for the moment, she was just the babelicious new stella.

Jeremiah Bruce, known as Jam to his friends, was cleanly stacking his new books in his locker. At first glance, Jam was the model teenager. He earned good grades, was in his youth group at church, and the curly blonde mop that covered his head made him look almost cherubic. Many people he knew would be shocked to know that in his spare time this cherub beat drums to what the generations before his called 'devil's music'. Speaking of the devil, he was more than relieved not to be going to Saint Bernard's Boarding School. His mom had basically shut him out after his big speech in Detroit. His speech had seemed to open her eyes to the fact that he was nearly grown and no longer a child. To his relief, she never again forced him to go to church or to wear those horrible k-mart brand clothes that made him look like he was competing in the math league. All she said to him now was that she was disappointed in him and that she hoped one day that he would see the error in his ways and come back to her and to God. Whatever, it didn't bother him in the least, or at least that's what he told himself. 'Oh!' He thought to himself as he spotted Beth's phone number taped to the back of his locker, ' She hasn't given me her new number yet...' He and Beth hadn't talked since Detroit. Beth had promised to give him a call once her parents had gotten a phone, but it hadn't happened and he sorely wondered if it had just been a one time thing. He tore her old number off the back of his locker and crumbled it up, remembering when he'd asked her for it in study hall, his excuse being so they could help each other with homework, he hadn't known at the time that they both had a crush on each other. He shook his head at the thought, all of those opportunities to makeout with her and he'd squandered them. It was then that he was surprised by Lex who quickly wrenched his own locker open with a bang.

"Hey Jam."

"Lex." They greeted each other as Lex unceremoniously dumped his books into his own locker which full of Kiss memorabilia. Jam's locker was dedicated to Peter Criss...and Beth of course. Lex had above average intelligence for a burnout, which unfortunately made him a bit of a buzzkill. He was notorious for his negativity, Hawk had once warned him that his worrying would lead him into an early grave, it had already caused permanent frown lines to form on his face... Jam shut his locker door and noticed that Lex had Christine's phone number posted in a hidden corner of his locker. If not for the hot pink lipstick stain, Jam would not have otherwise noticed it. Lex noticed his gaze and slammed his locker shut. It was then that Jam realized that Lex would rather not talk about his little affair with the stella, Christine. Hawk and Trip had already given him enough shit about it. The latter two showed up moments later, seemingly joined at the hip, chatting about something they saw in the hallway.

"What are you two so excited about?" Lex asked. The two of them had huge shit-eating grins on their faces.

"Dude Lex, me and Trip have this smokin' hot new girl in our homeroom." Lex raised an eyebrow,

"Really? She a Stella?" He asked, already knowing the answer, the only 'smokin' hot' girls at their school were always Stellas.

"Well, not exactly." Trip answered.

"What do you mean?" Lex demanded.

"We mean that she looks like a stella with the huge hair and the pink lipgloss, but she's got skulls drawn on her backpack, man." Hawk recounted, starting to get excited again.

"And that's not all..." Trip paused for effect, "She's got fucking Paul Stanley's face stapled to the front of it too!" It was like their dream girl had come to life, a foxy chick who loved Kiss as much as they did! But Lex became frozen at Trip's last statement. There was only one person he knew who loved Paul Stanley enough to staple him to the front of her backpack. 'No way, it couldn't be her, could it?' Sherrie Merle was out of his life for good, he reasoned, with a rich grandmother who'd sent her off to debutante school, there was no way she'd be back here in this deadbeat town. So, who was this enigma who'd shown up out of the blue with the habits of his childhood friend? He was going to find out.

So yeah, cliffhanger and just wanted to say a few things...

Christine's phone number. In the script, Lex gives Christine money for a cab so she can get to Disco Inferno. She writes her number on his hand in lipstick (which-let's be honest-is a little unrealistic, it would rub off almost immediately!) instead I wrote this as if she had given him a piece of notepaper that she had kissed with her phone number on it.

Don't worry there is more to come! Please remember to leave me reviews if you liked it!