The beginning.
Secrets won't stay secret forever, they are meant to shatter. Some things are better left discovered, especially in the case of a nearly forgotten past.
It was around the middle of December, snow was falling gently onto the cold hard earth. A camouflage hat rested gently on blue hair and pale skin. A frozen figure moved slowly up the hill that led to Kong studios, home of the renowned band. Her greens eyes scanned the ground around her, looking at her surroundings. As her climb began to close to an end, she found a large door before her.
The knocking on the door rang through on the inside, where a tired bassist laid over a table, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans and a satanic cross. A grumble came from his gruff rusty voice. "damn I' all." he grunted, forcing himself up onto his wobbly legs. "bloke can' sleep off a hangover round ere'". As he crankily went to the door and swung it open he mumbled. "aint you never eared' of a one night stand" he complained but stopped himself, seeing the rather young teenager before him. "wot you want?" he asked, scratching his head.
The girl looked up, vapor coming from her pale lips. "Im lookin for my dad" she said with a heavy british accent. Her arm raised holding a picture of the bands vocalist.
Gah, I couldn't think of a good enough prologue, ch. One will be up soon.