Chapter 6
A Menace To Society
"Can you believe this shit!" Roddy exclaimed as she plopped the newspaper on the kitchen table. All eyes went to the headline title "ROOM 203: MUSIC OR MENACE?"
"Who the hell do they think they are? We're the best fucking band that's been out in a long time. Of course we're not a menace, we're a goddamned talent," she finished sitting down with a huff at her cornflakes.
"That's not what the President of the Parents Censorship Rights Committee thinks; Senator Ronald Davies says that we're lewd, obscene, and a personal defamation to the country," Jina perked.
"Yeah, well he's an impotent dick that wouldn't know good music if it went down on him," Roddy pouted.
"I think that potty mouth of yours is what he's talking about; it wouldn't hurt you to tone down on all the foul language," Wufei interjected after taking a sip of his piping hot coffee.
"Potty mouth? Foul language? Have you been smoking my good shit? When have I ever gone overboard with my language in a public setting?" Roddy asked, oblivious to the wayward stares her band was giving her.
"Well, there was that one time on tour when you slapped the camera man because he caught you and Trowa on tape kissing," Wufei interjected.
"And that one time that you told the press hounds to fuck off or suck your twat," Quatre added.
"Oh and that one time when…"
"Okay, okay, so I have a little bit of a language problem, but what do my actions have to the do with the music that we produce?" Roddy slouched in her chair, dramatically throwing her spoon into her bowl with diva-like precision. Trowa got up and stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders trying to ease the nervous tension from them.
"You're not a menace, babe, you just speak your mind, which is what the fans like," Trowa kissed the nape of her neck.
"Yeah, Rod, Trowa's right, what do our fans care if some snooty President of the PCRC says something shitty about us?" Duo asked, trying to win a smile from Rod; there was no response.
"Our fans may not care, but their parents might. The PCRC is a strong group that's very influential; do you guys remember that band Draco?" Wufei asked and was returned with seven blank stares.
"Exactly, PCRC got a hold of them; they lost all of their teenage group sales and that's the biggest market we got. I mean, of course we have the over 20 crowd that's absolutely in love with you Roddy, but teenagers are the ones that buy up your CD's."
"So, you're telling us that we're screwed?" Roddy asked.
"No, not at all, as a matter of fact that's why I bought this article by and called this breakfast meeting. You see, we've been cordially invited to a political fundraiser in Washington D.C.,"
"For PCRC? I'm sorry but I decline," Roddy spat out.
"No, not for PCRC, for the President," Wufei flicked the invitation between his index and middle finger. Roddy quickly grabbed it out and read it aloud.
"You have been cordially invited to the annual Presidential fundraising Gala this Saturday on that 5th day of May 2003 in the year of our Lord. Black tie formal." She stared at the invitation with a twinkle in her hazel eyes, gold flecks sparkling like dew in the moonlight.
"We've fucking made it!!!" Duo yelled out breaking the silence and going to hug a rather excited hopping up and down Roddy.
"How does this help our image?" Heero asked, not joining in on the preemptive celebration.
"Well, being invited to the presidential Gala shows that we have a little class. Besides, Senator Davies and the chairman of the PCRC, Relena Peacecraft, are going to be there," Wufei commented.
"Oh that bitch, I'd like to give her a piece of my mind," Jina commented.
"A punch in the face," Roddy seethed with her.
"Ladies, it's that kind of attitude that we're trying to avoid at the gala. Ms. Peacecraft I'm sure will be as cordial as you ladies will try to be. Now we have to get to this video shoot meeting. They're trying to think of new ways to soften your image, that should take all day."
****
The press was everywhere as they often where when 203 was concerned. Being the number one rock band in the nation had some strange quirks that came with it; of course the media circus was one of them. Roddy laid her head against the cool leather of the limo. She was excited about meeting the President but was still a bit leery about why he'd wanted the band to come in the first place, especially with she and the Chairman of PCRC in the same vicinity; he knew there was going to be some fireworks, but Roddy had promised Wufei that she would try to keep her "potty mouth" under wraps for one night.
The limo stopped and she looked over to Trowa and grabbed his hand, he looked back to her and smiled.
"You're gonna do fine, don't worry about it." The door opened with flashes of camera light and roaring, adoring fans. The band looked excellent and telling from the commentary of the reporters, they thought so too. Jina had her hair up in an elaborate hairstyle accented with black bone chopsticks sticking out. She wore a simple black silk kimono dress with a slit high enough to see the stacked heels with that matched the chopsticks in her hair and every time she stepped the press got a glimpse of creamy, white thigh. Heero was right behind her wearing a traditional Japanese tuxedo and holding her hand as they both descended nervously down the red carpet. Quatre and Duo exited next; Quatre was wearing his signature vest, all black for him as well. Duo stepped out and the crowd roared with feminine squeals, his hair was loose flowing down his back in a shimmering cascade of waves. He looked more than sexy in his all black tux and a little bit of himself was kept with the choice of black combat boots as shoes, showing a little of his bad boy side. Trowa stepped out of the limo next, a simple black tuxedo adorning his tall, thin frame. Then came Roddy, and as always she had to outdo her band; she was the lead singer after all. She wore a long, seemingly modest fire engine red dress that clasped daintily around her neck, leaving only a small cutout piece of fabric to show a modest amount of cleavage. He hair was pulled into a low ponytail fixed with a diamond clip with small flipped up wisps at the sides. She looked stunning, but way too modest for the Roddy Adelphia that the press knew and loved and just knew was going to make a scandal. She sauntered down the red carpet, obviously having let the press down with her unassuming attire. Just when the press was about to move on to the other important arrivals, they got a look at the back of the dress. Her back was completely out and the dress dipped so low in the back that it showed below the small of her back but above her crack. And in the crevice and small of her back was a small tattoo that read "203." It was elegant yet sexy, modest yet she still looked fuckable. She smiled and walked to catch up with Trowa and the rest.
"You look so fucking hot tonight, just wait till I get you alone," Trowa whispered in her ear.
"Maybe we could sneak out onto the balcony." Roddy whispered back, pinching his butt a little for emphasis.
They made there way into the ballroom. It was your quintessential ballroom, complete with balcony. People were seated at tables and up on the stage was the main table where the President and his cabinet would no doubt sit. There was a large placard on one of the tables that read Room 203; they were seated right next to the people from PCRC considering that it was an eight person table and there were only six people in the band and two people from PCRC: Relena Peacecraft the chairman and Senator Ronald Davies the President of the National Chapter. Relena smiled daintily at them all, being seated neatly between Heero Yuy and her partner Ronald Davies. Roddy happened to be seated next to Mr. Davies, by some unfortunate misplacement of the place cards; it was a cruel irony.
"So, you are the quite scandalous Ms. Adelphia, in the flesh," Davies said holding out a hand to shake.
"Forgive me if I don't shake hands," Roddy replied staring down at the offending hand and taking a seat. She sat down, facing towards Trowa and grabbing his hand.
"You must be the talented Trowa Barton, Duo Maxwell, Jinakel Wohess , Quatre Winner, and Heero Yuy," Relena named them all, smiling cordially at every one of them.
"For people that call us menaces you surely are quite familiar with our likenesses," Duo commented.
"I'm like J. Edgar Hoover, I keep up with all of my prey," Davies said, staring down the back of Roddy's dress scandalously. Trowa caught his action and gave him hawked evil eyes back.
"Do you want to go dance, Rod?" Trowa asked, trying to pull her away from Davies. She nodded and took his hand and he pulled her out on the dance floor.
"That bastard is staring at you like you're a piece of meat," Trowa whispered.
"To him that's all I am. You wanna go find that balcony?" Roddy asked with a smile on her face.
"Maybe later. I was actually thinking about something Rod. You know sometimes I get to thinking and…" Trowa was cut off…
"May I cut in?" Davies asked. Trowa scowled but allowed him to dance with Roddy regardless. Roddy scowled even more. Trowa walked away from the dance floor towards the punch bowl where Duo was standing seeming to guard the fingerfoods.
"I can't believe you let her dance with him; she's going to punch him," Duo said cordially sliding Trowa some kind of alcoholic beverage.
"It's not her I'm worried about; watch his roving hands for me I'm going to go step outside on the balcony to take a breath," Trowa replied, handing the drink back to Duo and walking towards the balcony. On his way out he realized that Jina was sitting by herself and that Quatre was out dancing. Heero was away from the table as well as the chairman of the PCRC. He didn't think much of it, reaching down in his pocket and fingering a small object that he'd held in his pocket for quite a while. Ignoring its weight in his pocket he walked towards the balcony. What he saw there blew his mind; the very own chairman of the PCRC, Relena Peacecraft, was up against the wall, dress around her waist, head thrown back, teeth between her lips, and a very pants-less Heero Yuy between her legs. He stood there in awe for only a minute then turned around and walked only a step back into the ballroom… that's when he heard it.
****
"Where's your boyfriend?" Duo asked Jina, pulling up a seat next to her and slipping some punch in front of her. He pulled in close, so close that she could smell him.
"You know, being this close to me, Heero could walk up any minute and…" he kissed her quickly on the sly; no one in the crowd noticing.
"Let's get out of here," he whispered, breathless and grabbing her hand to lead her away… that's when they heard it.
****
Heero was on the balcony, minding his own business, bored with the party. Everything that was going on around him didn't seem to interest him. He didn't think that the band was going in the right direction. If Riley were there, he would understand that Roddy and Duo were leading the band down the path to quick destruction. Never mind that they'd sold out more concert venues and record stores than they could count in the nation, not to mention worldwide. He figured that fame this quickly could only lead to quick doom. Sipping his drink and finishing off his champagne, he was about to go inside when he felt a gentle, feminine hand touch him on the shoulder. He figured it was Jina and leaned into it, bringing the digits to his lips and kissing them. Alas, the pink nail polish told him differently. He jumped back realizing that the hand didn't belong to Jina.
"Mr. Heero Yuy, alone at last," she said, seductively folding her arm over his shoulder. He tried to shrug it off but she stood firmly.
"What do you want?" he asked, annoyed with the pink-clad woman.
"To fuck you," her words were blunt, causing Heero visible mental alarm.
"Excuse me?"
"I think you heard me," she leaned in and kissed him, then dropped to her knees. The rest is history.
****
"Permit me to say this but you are extremely beautiful," Davies commented as he twirled Roddy around on the dance floor.
"I don't take complements from you, they're shallow," Roddy bit back.
"Why are you being so difficult?"
"Cut the bullshit Davies, why are you being so nice?" Roddy asked.
"Have you ever been with an older man?" Davies asked lowering his hand to Roddy's behind, "I figure that you'd be with one of your band mates, the way you writhe and touch all over them. I bet you've fucked each and every one of them to a standstill. You're a little minx like that; but they're younger men not an older, more established gentleman like myself. I could make your life so good Roddy, cars, more money than you ever dreamed, trips, you name it. Just for one night with me. Jesus, feel how hot you've gotten me," He put her hand down on his arousal. Seething with anger Roddy squeezed for all she was worth, causing Davies to visibly bulk. His bodyguards couldn't get to him fast enough. That's when the rest of the band heard it; it was Roddy, in the middle of the media circus and the dance floor, in front of the important politicians, the crowd, the President of the nation, and the world, she put Davies in his place.
"Listen here you limp-dicked, impotent twat, I'm no easy fuck, every man has to work for it, and just by spitting flowery words and thinking that just because you've got more money and power than me doesn't mean that I'm gonna just give you this pussy. Now fuck off and try to live by your self-righteous bullshit the next time you put someone down. I'm not the fucking menace, people like you are. Come on guys, Room 203 wasn't meant to be in a place like this," She finished, letting go of his pained arousal and watched him fall to the floor, calling her band and giving the President of the nation the finger. On the way out Duo smacked the First Lady on the ass and winked. To say the least, the night was more than eventful and was on everyone's news the next day.