Well, look who it is. Posting on here for the first time in like a year or something. Crawling out of her writers block... for the time being, at least.
Hey guys. What's up?
This sort of hit me like a truck out of nowhere, but I felt really inspired for this story and decided that, while we're all in quarantine, it would be the best time to get some writing done. So, here you go.
I plan on making this fic pretty... mature. It doesn't get too steamy in the first chapter, but it's quite possible it will later, so just be prepared. If you guys haven't figured it out already, I definitely prefer some mature romance over anything else.
So, basically a more-angsty Lynne.
Hope you like it! Enjoy :)
"Thank you Mandalay Bay!" I screamed into my microphone, the muscles in my face beginning to cramp and tremble under my constant grins and laughter. The crowd below us roared in applause. The venue, in the middle of Las Vegas, included no seating in front of the stage. Instead was a massive pool with clear blue waters, the lights on the pool floor illuminating the thousands of people attending the Psycho Las Vegas Music Festival. It had to have been around eleven by then, but I was far from tired. The adrenaline from playing at our first music festival, and pulling off one of our best performances while doing so gave me enough energy to stay awake for days. I involuntarily jumped around the stage and waved before the crowd, as if I were a water balloon of energy about to pop.
On either side of me, Miku and Gumi waved their goodbyes as we finished our set. They too seemed to be victims of their excitement. We exchanged euphoric smiles, confirming silently to each other that all of our hard work, all of our practices, all of the sleepless nights writing songs and booking shows, had finally paid off.
I barely noticed Gumi link her arm into mine and pull me towards the back of the stage. Feeling all those eyes on me was a feeling that I never wanted to end, but I couldn't stay on stage forever. The other two seemed to snap out of it before me.
The first person to greet us backstage was none other than Luka, standing with her arms crossed and a slight smile on her lips. The rare sight was enough to nearly snap me out of my performance high.
"Well done, girls," Luka complimented. "I imagine we'll be able to set you guys up at a variety of other venues, with a show like this in your books."
"Are you kidding!" Gumi yelled, still clutching my arm. "We did it, Luka! We made it!"
Luka held her hands up. "Whoa whoa whoa, you had one good show-"
"One great show," Miku corrected, already seeking out one of the backstage assistants to retrieve her phone. She, too, wore a wide, almost psychotic grin. Like a giddy schoolgirl.
Luka nodded. "One great show. But we still have a lot of hard work ahead of us. Stardom doesn't end, girls."
"Stardom," I repeated dreamily.
Only then did Gumi turn her attention to me, letting out a laugh. "Rin's high."
"Not yet," I corrected. "But tonight… we're partying. So maybe then." I wrapped my hand around my right wrist, where my silver charm bracelet hung.
All three of us looked at Luka at the proposal, like sisters asking their mom for something she was bound to refuse.
Luka stared down at us with her arms still crossed. Then, with a sigh, she waved a hand. "I… I guess we can talk business tomorrow. There is nothing wrong with a celebration every once in a while."
"Yes!" Gumi hissed. "I need to check out that club here. I heard it's legendary."
"You're not even going to enjoy the rest of the show?" Miku asked, pulling her smartphone from the hands of a stage crew member, dressed in all black. He darted away as soon as Miku plucked her phone, as well as Gumi and I's, from his hands. "I think TR is coming up," she replied snidely.
Gumi rolled her eyes. "I listened to one song by them. And it was bad, okay? I'm not a fan."
Luka's smile disappeared. "They don't matter. You girls were the bigger show, you performed better than they ever could. There's no point in talking about them during such a successful night."
Miku grinned, her phone screen lighting up her face. "And here comes the followers." She handed us each our phones.
"Jesus," I said, the device beginning to vibrate as soon as I turned it on. "I can't even have it on right now."
"Problems we like to have!" Gumi yelled, her voice much too loud for backstage.
Luka's smile reappeared. "Well, I'm exhausted. I'll see you girls tomorrow morning, at 10 a.m. sharp."
Miku dropped her shoulders. "Ten? Are you kidding? I won't even be asleep until six!" She whined.
Gumi and I said nothing, instead giving Luka the biggest puppy eyes we could. She scanned us disapprovingly.
"Fine. 11 a.m. sharp."
With that, Miku perked up once more. "Yes!" She slid her phone into the pocket of her black shorts and turned her attention to us. "Girls," she began dramatically. "Let's hit the bar."
That was, indeed, what we did.
The Mandalay Bay Hotel and Resort was a playground of adult activities, made even sweeter by the fact that the three of us were now recognized faces walking around the hotel's extravagant halls. Bars, pools, restaurants, a casino, and even an aquarium were scattered about the extensive grounds of the property. Our exclusive performer's suite was on the top floor, far above us as we wandered through the hotel's extensive venues, occasionally bumping into a group of people, often around our age, greeting us with smiles and cameras.
It was the first night I felt like a real celebrity.
"I'm gonna get so drunk," Miku promised as we sat down at the bar, the hustle of the casino surrounding us.
"I wanna hit that rooftop pool!" Gumi told us, waving over the bartender.
"Is the spa open this late?" Miku asked.
I laughed. "You guys act like this is the last time we'll be here."
"Oooh," Miku cooed after ordering a round of fruity drinks for us. "Big talk from Rinny."
"Well-deserved big talk. Fuck what Luka said. We made it. People know us now," I answered, leaning against the back of my stool and crossing my legs. "We have the rest of our lives to enjoy luxury now." I fiddled with my bracelet as I spoke.
Gumi just laughed and shook her head, her leaf-green hair still styled perfectly even though it had been hours since hair and makeup. Miku, on the other hand, scoffed in my direction. "You still have that thing?" Her eyes were on my bracelet.
I immediately dropped my hand into my lap.
"Miku, leave it alone," Gumi muttered to her.
Before the argument could break out, the bartender returned. He was a handsome younger guy with dark brown hair dressed in a sleek black uniform, handing the brightly colored drinks to each of us. I eyed him as he walked away.
"And how are you going to celebrate stardom, Rinny?" Miku asked, taking a sip of her drink from the thin black straw. It was a blue liquid with clear ice floating in it, contained in a widened wine glass. More than enough to get me buzzed.
"I," I responded, finally tearing my eyes away from the attractive bartender. "Am going to go home with someone tonight."
Gumi raised her eyebrows as she let out a laugh. "Where's this Rin coming from? What happened to the prude we grew up with?"
"I am not a prude!" I argued. "Just a little… self-conscious. But not anymore," I promised, waving a finger at them. "And I intend to have a little fun."
Miku rolled her eyes. "Ugh. Men. I don't know how you two do it."
"As long as you don't bring him back to our room," Gumi added.
I laughed. "No, I won't."
"And be safe," Miku continued. "Location-share with us."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I replied, taking a long sip from my drink. It tasted like blue raspberry, the alcohol nearly completely undetectable. Though it wasn't long until I felt the familiar warm bloom in my chest.
"No, seriously," Gumi said, both of them looking at me intently. "I think we're gonna stick together, and if you're going off by yourself drunk in Vegas…"
"I'll be fine," I promised. I caught the eye of the bartender, waving him over. "Could I have another one of these?"
"Of course," he responded, dark stubble covering his chin.
"And can I take it around the casino?" I asked, looking at the rows of slots and tables behind us. Low music played from invisible speakers above us.
"Sure," he answered, placing his large hands on the bar and leaning closer to us. "As long as you bring it back." His voice was low.
I smiled, both Gumi and Miku looking at me with horrified expressions. "Will do," I answered.
He nodded, also wearing a smirk, and walked off to fetch my drink.
"I don't even know who you are," Gumi joked once he was out of earshot, pulling the straw out of her drink and downing it instead.
"Whoa there!" Miku put a hand on her shoulder. "How are you gonna dance if you can't walk?"
The bartender returned my drink, giving a low-lidded smile as I gave him my card. After he returned it, I finished my first, then cupped the new drink in my manicured hand. "I'm heading to the tables," I told my best friends. "If I leave the hotel, I'll text you."
"Location share. Right now," Miku demanded.
I rolled my eyes, pulling out my phone and complying as the bartender returned my card. "There," I told her, slipping the card back into my wallet. "Now you can stalk me."
"Good," Gumi said, satisfied. "And don't lose all our money gambling!"
I slid out of my barstool, sending her a snicker over my shoulder. "I don't lose, Gumi."
"Rin," Miku called as I walked off. "Please be careful. You're not invincible."
"Sure feels like it!" I called to them before turning around and strutting over to the tables.
And it did feel like it. The rush of the show hadn't worn off yet and it seemed like everyone in the room had their eyes on me. Surely they recognized me, surely they saw the show I just performed, surely they saw how amazing I was. How amazing we were. I realized I hadn't even changed out of my stage outfit yet, but I didn't mind. It showed off my best assets.
I walked past table after table, with my drink in one hand and a small bag of casino chips, eyes scanning for any interesting characters to get to know. It's easy to recognize the fun ones, I thought to myself. They're just always hiding.
The thought had barely crossed my mind before I spotted a poker table nearby. The table was occupied by several people: a single older man, a fancily-clad couple, and two younger guys. One of the younger guys, with strikingly red hair and freckles, was talking to the other, a blonde with sharp features and bright blue eyes.
I leaned against the nearest standing table, watching them.
They sat at opposite ends of the table, on either side of the dealer, but seemed to be there together. Perhaps to make sure neither of them peeked at the other's hand. They would throw chips into the pot, along with the other players, then eye each other slyly while the dealer handed out their cards. After watching a few rounds, it was clear who the better player was. The blonde pulled stacks and stacks of chips into his bag, much bigger than the tiny one I had grabbed. Players left, players came, the duo stayed until an entirely new cast surrounded them. It didn't take long for the blonde to rob them of their chips.
Eventually, even the redhead gave up. He shook his head, disappointed but amused, and pushed his hands against the table as he stood. He waved goodbye to the blonde, who remained, alone, with the rest of the strangers.
I grinned.
The chair had been empty for barely thirty seconds as I pulled it from the table, setting my drink on the side and sitting tall, waiting for my hand. I tried to make my appearance as eye-catching as possible, making wide, obvious, and slow movements as I sat down. It seemed to work. Across the table, I felt the blonde's eyes on me.
Don't look at him, I told myself. Not yet.
"Next hand," the dealer promised me. He was a bored-looking man, with dark skin and a bald head. He wore the same jackets as the rest of the staff. A silver earring adorned his right ear.
"No worries," I cooed, taking some of my chips from my bag.
He's looking at me, I thought. He has to be.
Unsurprisingly, Blonde won that hand, too.
"Bullshit," one of the table occupants muttered before slamming his cards down on the table and stomping away.
Across from me, Blonde chuckled. "Bad sport."
"What do you expect," I replied. "He basically gave his chips to you." Only then did I raise my head, leaning my elbows on the table as the dealer distributed the next hand. Our eyes met.
He leaned back in his chair, his shoulders relaxed and his expression smug. His hair was pulled back, though many strands escaped and wisped around his face. His features were sharp, with a pointed nose and fitting smirk. His eyes were narrowed, the bright blue just showing under his confident expression. Next to him was an empty glass.
"Maybe he should get better at the game, then," he retorted, earning a few dirty looks from the other players.
I said nothing, instead looking down at my cards, facedown on the green table. I lifted the corner facing me to inspect them. Ten of spades and nine of hearts.
Blonde put in the small blind, the man to his left putting in the big blind. Each player went through, a few folding and a few placing their chips in the pot. On my turn, still feeling Blonde's eyes on me, I matched the bets of the table before me, sliding my chips into the center of the table slowly.
"Flop cards," the dealer announced as I concluded the round, placing three cards into the center of the table.
Ten of hearts, ace of hearts, and nine of clubs.
Two pairs, I confirmed with myself, my poker face impeccable. Pretty good. And still two cards to go.
The betting round began.
Blonde slid his chips, a considerable bet, into the pot. I allowed myself a glance at him. He wore a dark, short-sleeved shirt that fit him very well, along with plain jeans. I wondered for the first time if he'd been at the show and hastily changed to enjoy the casino before the night ended.
Before I knew it, it was my turn. The betting amount had increased considerably. I looked down at the revealed cards, only giving the impression that I was making a hard decision. After a few seconds, I matched the bet as well. The chips in my bag were already nearly halved.
"Turn card," the dealer announced once more, placing the next card face-up on the table.
Five of hearts.
Shit, I thought to myself. That doesn't help me at all. Unless the next card is hearts, too...
Blonde raised. His expression, too, was unreadable. No matter what events of the game occurred, the smug smile remained.
Fuck it, I thought, a tiny voice inside of me yelling in panic as I matched the highest bet of the table as my turn came around. If they went much higher, I wouldn't be able to compete.
"River." The dealer pulled the final card for the game into the middle of the table for the final round.
Ten of clubs.
I could have jumped in victory. A full house on the first hand? There was no way Blonde could compete with that.
But he did.
The round continued, with nearly all of the table folded by the time it reached my turn. Around me, the room quieted to a buzzing blur of soft noise. I focused in on the cards in front of me, and, more importantly, not showing my excitement. I wondered for a moment if my risky betting had caused the performance high to calm down, and desperately hoped I could maintain the confidence I had approached this table with. How embarrassing it would be to approach the table so calm and collected, only to lose all of my chips in the first hand.
But, if I won… I fingered the bracelet around my wrist.
I set my chips on the table, allowing the dealer to collect them this time.
The betting continued. Blonde did not relent, raising once again. The others followed suit at first. But it wasn't long until only the two of us remained.
"You never win through bluffing," he told me, being the first person to speak at the table the entire game.
I eyed him, the sight of his relaxed posture helping to regain some of my own composure. I wasn't going to let some college punk scare me out of a poker game. I was fucking Rin, the Rin, of Merge, the hottest up-and-coming pop-group in the world. He saw us perform, he had to have. He was probably terrified behind that smile. I could imagine his heart beating in his throat, his leg bouncing under the table. I convinced myself that he was scared.
Just like me.
Think, Rin, I told myself. What hand could he have that's better than a full house?
The dealer turned to me. "You folding?"
"No," I answered too quickly. Before I had the chance to doubt myself, I threw in my final bet.
A measly two chips remained in my bag.
"Alright," the dealer concluded. Even he was interested in the game now, the pot having grown to a frightening amount. The other players looked between the two of us, as if watching a tennis match. "Flip your cards."
With a hidden deep breath, I flipped my cards. But my eyes were on his.
King of hearts, eight of hearts. A flush against my full house.
Calm down, I reminded myself, milliseconds before I was about to jump out of my chair in victory. Stay cool.
He widened his eyes, flickering them between my cards and me.
The dealer slid the mountainous pile of chips towards me. "Pot goes to you, miss."
My grin widened at the winnings. I couldn't help myself. After admiring them for a moment, my eyes found Blonde's again. "Can't win 'em all," I informed him in a low voice.
"Don't worry," he replied, leaning forward. "I'll win the next one."
And so the game continued.
"Who taught you to play?" He asked me in the middle of the next game. The players around us had changed. The game did not.
"My mom," I answered. "I used to beat her and all her and my dad's friends during poker nights."
"That first game was luck," he taunted.
"We'll have to see about this one, then."
I won that game as well.
Despite the winnings from the first two rounds, my pile of chips grew and shrunk with every hand. It didn't matter to me much. After the first game, I wasn't playing for the money anymore.
I watched his movements like a panther sizing up its prey. He caught me staring more than once, and I only pretended to be embarrassed about it.
"Here for the festival?" He asked.
"Sure am," I told him. My senses were beginning to come back to me, and I began to seriously wonder whether he had seen the performance or not. He did not seem to recognize me, but, then again, he might have just been incredible at hiding his adoration.
He placed some chips into the pot. "Here to see anyone in particular?"
I thought for a moment. "Merge," I finally answered, watching him closely to see his reaction.
His eyes widened. "Merge, huh? You're into all of that 'girl power' shit?"
My grin twitched in annoyance. He definitely had not seen the show. "Of course I am," I answered, crossing my arms. "What girl isn't?"
He considered my response, then shrugged. "Fair enough."
"What about you? You here for the festival, too?"
"Sure am."
"Who are you here for?"
His grin widened. "I'm just here for a good time."
I let out a laugh. "Aren't we all."
The round concluded. The next round began. I took a sip from my drink, the ice clinking against the bottom of my glass. A buzz began to form in my head, blurring my vision only slightly and relaxing my mind.
"Where you from?" He asked.
Oh, I have him now, I thought to myself. "San Diego."
He nodded. "I'm like an hour outside of San Diego. Oceanside."
I smiled in recognition. "Oh yeah? Me and the girls go there all the time for the beaches. San Diego gets so crowded."
"It's not much different where I'm from, I promise," he chuckled.
"You fly here, or drive?"
"Flying. We're leaving tomorrow." He shrugged. "Gotta get in as much trouble as possible before going back."
"We drove," I replied, going for a sip of my drink and finding it empty.
"We?" He asked.
"My friends and I."
"Huh. Long drive."
"Road trips can be fun, though." I didn't tell him that we drove to fit all of our equipment onto our tour bus. "Shame the festival is over."
"But the night is definitely not," he joked.
I rolled my eyes, letting out a small laugh.
He nodded towards my empty drink. "How about I buy you another one of those?"
I glanced towards the glass with a smirk. "Why not?"
With that, I left the poker table with more than double my chips, though that wasn't the important win.