Massie blinked, feeling off kilter. This would be easier than she thought! Just go back there, show off some of her charms, and have him fall head-over-heels. She shook off the thought, keeping her eyes looking as sultry as she could manage. He pulled her off to the side, through the door leading to the private area. Once inside there was a bed, a sofa, and small refrigerator. It was all very shabby, but she did her best not to scrunch up her face in disgust. He looked her up and down, after shutting the door and whispered,
"So babe, what brings a nice girl like you to a dirty rock concert?" She straightened up, and said indignantly,
"I'm not that nice!" He smirked, and put his hand on a slender hip,
"Doesn't look that way, babe! But hey, I'll just take your word for it, come on over here, and show me what a bad girl acts like!" Massie was becoming more and more uncomfortable with being in a room alone with him with every word spoken. He wandered over to the fridge, and began rifiling through it. With his back to her he began,
"Well, my name's Franky Piper, what's yours?" She was getting very fed up with him by this point, and couldn't decide between telling him to go to hell, or saying her name. She chose the latter, and piped up,
"My name is Massie Bl-," however, she was cut off by Franky.
"I don't need to know your last name," he laughed, turning around with two beers clutched in his long fingers.
"Not for what I'm planning, anyways." He sat down on the dirty couch, and looked up at her expectantly. She shook off her fear, and sauntered over to him, daintily setting herself down next him, so their thighs touched. He put one beer into her open hand which was shaking slightly, and placed his own, now empty, hand on her thigh. Her heart was pounding now, she hadn't expected this at all. This wasn't a Briarwood boy. This was a whole other breed. The age difference which normally didn't phase her, made her want to vomit. He looked her over again, hungrily, and then as if sensing her nerves, his facial expression transformed. His eyes were comforting, and his hand on her thigh felt comforting, not sleazy.
"Have I told you, you have gorgeous eyes?" She was taken aback by the change in him, but let herself believe that he was falling for her good looks. For once in her life, Massie was at an utter loss. The boys she normally went for had cute little grins, and would ask her to the movies. They'd bide their time, and MAYBE get a kiss. And here she was, sitting with a boy who doesn't know her last name, a beer in her hand, and her in his hands. She had lost control of the situation, and the only thing she had done was tell him her name. Her mind was running twice as fast as usual, so much that she didn't notice him move, until he was on top of her,
"Wanna have a good time?" he inquired, grinning playfully. That was her breaking point,
"I think you and I have a VERY different idea of a good time," she said snappily. His face fell, but before he could say anything, the blonde girl from earlier stuck her head in the door.
"Hey dude, there are some chicks out here wearing practically nothing. You better get out here before Dingo, or there won't be any left!" Then she stopped, and took in the scene better. Her eyes fell on Massie, and she said smirking,
"Oh nevermind. I see that won't be necessary."
"Nah," replied Franky,
"Maddie was just leaving." Massie felt her face get hot and she snarled indignantly,
"For your information, my name is Massie. Too bad you can't see when you've got something good! Your loss. And FYI, any guy wearing makeup just isn't my cup of tea. Sorry baaaabe." She dragged out the last word, for emphasis. She made her way out from under him, and stood up tall and proud. The blonde girl simply shook her head, and mouthed to her, 'come with me.' Massie simply glared in reply, but the blonde simply quirked one eyebrow, and turned to walk out. Under normal circumstances, Massie would have walked home, but she didn't like being defeated. So maybe her first try was a bust, but she'd figure it out. She followed after the girl, while a group of three scantily clad jailbait groupies snuck past into the room, wearing huge fake grins.
"What the hell was that?" Massie shrieked at the retreating girl. The girl whirled, clearly pissed off,
"Listen up princess, this is rock n' roll. I don't know what just went on in there, but I'll do my best to guess. You went in there thinking you're some sort of maneater, but all he wanted was a one-night stand. Get over yourself." The brunette was furious, which read clearly on her face,
"Who the hell are you?" Massie attempted to scream, but it came out halfhearted.
"Josie Dillon. I hang out with the band, who the hell are you?" She responded dryly.
"Massie Block. Can I ask you a question?"
"Yeah, whatever."
"How do you do it?" Josie, shook her head, and motioned for Massie to follow her to one of the unoccupied tables. As they sat, Josie looked up at Massie, sympathetically, despite her cheeks still being tinted red with anger.
"Massie, I want you to know, Franky isn't a bad guy. I swear." Massie's upper lip curled into what was almost a snarl, and she replied scathingly,
"Really? He's practically a pedophile, the way he was acting." Josie once again shook her head,
"It's what he expects from girls who come after him. He's a lead singer, his ego is massive."
"So I just let him what, rape me?" Josie mirrored Massie's snarl, only hers was much more intimidating. Through tightly shut teeth she seethed,
"He wouldn't do that. Did you even say no? I bet you just sat there and waited for him to fall in love with you." Massie's mind went over the past events, it was true. The second she implied a no, he waned her to leave. In an attempt to turn the tables, Massie asked snappily,
"What the hell are you doing with him, the way you came into his room talking about those sluts!" The blonde rolled her eyes,
"I'm 15, too young for that crap. We're friends, because he respects me. You went into the private room with him, it's private for a reason."
"I'm turning 15 in a week. So, I'm just as young as you, and what do you mean? Does he not respect me?" Josie almost laughed, and inquired,
"You've got guitar picks in your ears. Do you even play?"
"No," Massie replied indignantly, "he still should respect me. I'm a Block."
"Trust me. You're in over your head, kid."
