A/N: Thanks again for the reviews! Here's chapter four. For those of who were interested, I finally made a website as well (took me long enough!), so go ahead and check it out -- the address is listed in my profile (since fanfiction.net is having a strange time encoding URL's that are located in the body of the text, in other words it won't let me do it). Enjoy!!!
Chapter 4: ShowtimeSpike was at the bottom of the world. He wanted to die. Or cry. Or sleep. Or something. Or break stuff. Yeah break stuff, that option sounds good...
Andrew was checking his watch as he up and down the hallways, madly searching from room to room. Fifteen minutes! Fifteen fucking minutes! He ran his fingers through his hair, messing up the previously perfectly gelled locks. He was under an insane amount of pressure, his hair was turning into a mess, and where the hell was Spike? More importantly, they had ten minutes. Ten fucking minutes. Luke had more time to get out of the Death Star after he blew it up, thought Andrew. The Green Room! Smart Andrew, real smart, why didn't you check there first? He glanced at his watch again. Fourteen and a half minutes to curtain, and counting. Fourteen and a half fucking minutes.
Andrew skidded to a stop in front of the Green Room of LA's Grand Hyperion Plaza. He yanked open the door, murmuring a prayer. He'd better be in here!
A loud crash erupted as a crystal vase sailed neatly over Andrew's head and smashed into the hallway behind him.
"Ah, Spike?" said Andrew, manager of Vampires in Love.
"What? Can't you see I'm busy?" Spike barked midthrow. This time a lamp collided with the floor. Pieces scattered left and right, reminding Spike of how he felt inside at that moment. "Bollocks! Bloody hell! Bloody ... bollocksin' ... soddin' ... bitch ... whore," he said, scrambling for the right words. His hand grabbed an ashtray, preparing to slam in into the floor.
"SPIKE! Okay, Spike, give me the ashtray right now, mister!" Andrew shouted, stamping his foot for emphasis. Spike looked at it, shrugged haplessly and handed it over. Andrew turned to put it on the soft, while Spike spun around and grabbed a bottle off of a nearby table, tipping his head back and taking a healthy swig of the clear substance inside.
"Good!" Andrew said turning back around. He surveyed the scene, feeling as if he were going to faint. There was Spike, slumped in a chair, bottle in hand. "What are you doing? Get up right now! YOU'RE ON STAGE IN TWELVE MINUTES! TWELVE FUCKING MINUTES, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" he shouted. He put a hand to his forehead, rubbing his face as he said to himself, "This stress is definitely not good for me. I should've been an accountant like my mom wanted me to be!" He looked over at Spike again, "Oh my God! Spike! Is that vodka on your breath? Very cheap vodka?" His hands flew to his hips as he assumed a very irked posture, and he said in a hushed and pissed tone, "Spike, have you been drinking?"
"Wassit to you, Andy? Imabloodysoddinwanker," he said, his words running together. He let the bottle slip to the ground as he leaned forward and put his head in his hands, pulling at his hair. "My life is over! Better yet, unlife. Without her, I have no life!"
"Her?" Andrew paused as he thought for a moment. "Drusilla? Hey! And don't call me 'Andy!' I hate that."
Just then Xander entered the room and surveyed the damage. He immediately recognized the problem. "Whoa! Bleach boy, something wrong with Dru again? Because you know, there's like a billion people just dying to see us in a few minutes."
"Issnofair! Issnofair!" Spike mumbled.
"Spike, it's going to be okay!" Xander said, kneeling in front of Spike's chair, trying to look up at his face and gauge how drunk Spike really was. Spike sat straight up. Judging by his appearance Xander was able to tell his friend was slightly buzzed. Not a good sign, but a relief nonetheless. He would still be able to play, if they could only get him out there. This wasn't going to be easy. But then again, it never was when it came to Dru.
"She's supposed to be with me!" Spike said, emphasizing each syllable. He got up and started pacing. "She's supposed to be mine, forever! Forever, dammit! Me and Dru, Dru and me. She's like my 'Nancy'!"
"She's a nancy? I thought that was some kind of British insult or something," Andrew said.
"Sid and Nancy, you dolt! She's the Nancy to my Sid Vicious," Spike said. Andrew stared back in confusion.
"Sid Vicious, big punk rock icon and overall bad ass from the 70s or 80s. I forget which," Xander supplied.
"But now I'm Sid Wanker!" Spike wailed again, tears starting to form in his eyes. He turned away from his companions, trying to fix his hair in the mirror in order to make an effort to hide his emasculating emotions.
Xander started to say something, but Andrew jumped in instead. He sat Spike down in a chair in front of the vanity table in the room, flipping on the lights surrounding the mirror, and handed Spike a tissue.
"Spike. Hey, Spike it's going to be okay. Look, you've got a legion of adoring fans out there right now, many of them female, and you look …um. Well okay, right now you don't look so good, but give Jonathan 30 seconds with you and you'll look fabulous! C'mon, this is a really big deal. Don't forget, Wolfram Industries is backing this concert. If they like what they see, they'll fund your entire tour! I'm sure Drusilla will make it to the next show, but if you don't get out there right now, there isn't going to be a next show," Andrew finished.
"You don't understand. She didn't say she wasn't coming. She..." Spike began, his voice starting to waver. He jumped up and began to pace once more. "She, the bitch, she broke up with me. Ripped my bloody heart out, stomped on it, dragged it across the floor, and fed it to wild dogs!" he said, exaggeratedly pantomiming the motions in his words.
"Oh. Ah..." was all Andrew could think to say. He looked at his watch. Ten minutes. He sighed and thought, Spike is going to kill me with annoyance. Hey, kind of like that one really bad episode of "X-men" where... He snapped back to attention at the sound of Xander's voice.
"You've got to get out there. Please? If not for my sake, remember Riley and Wes are out there too. Drusilla always comes back, remember? Soap stars are all so melodramatic," Xander said.
"You don't get it! She said that she didn't want me. Dru said 'You taste like ashes, Spike. I have to find my pleasures elsewhere, Spike'," he replied, mimicking her voice. "This is it. She doesn't want me, and I have no idea why. She wouldn't even give me a real bloody reason. Just said she didn't have time for this anymore. I was always so good to her, and now this," Spike said quietly. He stared at his black nail polish, unsure of what else to do.
"Where is Dru going to be tomorrow?" Xander began.
"Tomorrow? Still in New York, they're in the middle of shooting a couple of big scenes for next week," Spike replied, not really following Xander.
"Exactly. Drusilla is still going to be in New York. On set. You know exactly where she's going to be, she's not about to take off over night. She's got work and probably a hair appointment or something like that. Tomorrow, first thing, you fly out to New York and straighten this out. She's at least got to talk to you. You don't just end a 3-year relationship like this, and she knows that. There's going to be media frenzy and chaos, and Dru's not the type to stand for rumors that could potentially hurt her image. She's like Cordelia was, a little too vain for her own good," Xander suggested.
Xander looked over to see Spike listening intently. The bleached rocker nodded his head slowly as Xander's words sank in. Spike knew Dru wouldn't be thrilled about being on the front page of Star, or the Enquirer, or the top headline in "Entertainment Tonight" if it was going to make her come out looking like the bad guy.
Xander continued, "Look, this could be our first major tour. We've worked so hard to get here. All those hours of practice and all the rejections and days when we were ready to give up -- it all comes down to this moment. We're almost there, but this is the last step and we've got to take it. We really need you, Spike, all jokes aside," Xander pleaded with his friend.
Spike listened intently and thought for a few seconds before he said, "Andrew."
"Yeah, Spike?" the manager of Vampires in Love said, ready to move.
Spike sighed, "Where's my guitar?'
Andrew got up, heaving a sigh of relief that Xander had been able to do remedy the situation, at least for now. "On stage, with the other instruments! Everything's set up. I got the smoke machine you wanted, the lighting won't be in your face like it was in rehearsal, and the people from Wolfram are going to be in the front row."
"Spike, here drink this!" Xander said, thrusting a cup of water at his friend as they hurried to get ready in the little time they had left.
"Breath mints!" Andrew said, tossing some at Spike.
"No one's going to be close enough to --" Spike began.
"Just put them in your mouth! It'll cover up the vodka, and the menthol will soothe your throat so you can sing," Andrew said.
"Menthol. Heh, could've just used my smokes for that," Spike said bitterly, popping a couple in his mouth. He did a quick touch up of his stage makeup, trying not to think of the nicotine patch stuck to his arm.
"Seven minutes, guys!" their stage manager Vi called out, sticking her head into the room. "Xander, we fixed your amp. There was a loose wire, but it's not going to be a problem anymore."
"Thanks!" Xander said as she walked away.
"SEVEN MINUTES! Ahhh!!! This is bad, this is so very, very bad!" Andrew yelled.
"Andrew! Shut up!" Xander said, grabbing their manager by the shoulders. "It's going to be okay, don't make me have to slap you! This is not a problem, see, Andrew? Our stuff is on stage, Spike's already in costume --"
"Andrew, we're going to have a little chat about these horrid costumes," Spike said, turning and pointing a finger at his manager.
"I cannot believe Wolfram had to see us playing at that costume party the record company did when 'Bitten by Love' hit Number 1 in Europe," Xander said, fixing his tie. He was dressed as 007 tonight.
"And what's with this stupid jewelry I got to wear? I feel like Elizabeth Taylor!" Spike said, motioning to the necklace he wore. Harry Winston Jewelers was trying to promote it's latest line of men's jewelry and had thought Spike would be perfect for it, little to Spike's knowledge. Andrew, being the good manager he was, had jumped to the chance for the band to do a little marketing and promoting for the band.
"Cheer up, Liz. At least you're not stuck wearing a tux. I feel like I'm going to the prom all over again," Xander replied.
"Spike, Xander, we're not having this argument again right now. Just get out there and play. Oh wait, here!" Andrew grabbed some cologne and hairspray, spraying Spike with both.
"Give me that you nit!" Spike said, grabbing the hairspray, or what he thought was hairspray. "Don't touch my hair!"
Xander quickly grabbed the cologne out of Spike's hand and replaced it with the actual hairspray. "Here Captain Peroxide, now hurry!"
"Don't call me that, Xand-man!" Spike said, mocking his bandmate's self-proclaimed nickname. He picked up a couch cushion and aimed it at Xander.
"Excellent! Good energy, guys! But don't waste it here, do that on stage! Now go forth, live long, and prosper!" Andrew said, glancing at his watch. Five minutes! Just five minutes!
"Prosper? Oh did you see last night's 'Star Trek?'" Xander started.
"Yeah! It was great! Wait, wait! Xander, out! Spike, out! Get out there and shake your bon-bons!" Andrew exclaimed, pushing them out the door and following them backstage.
On stage, Wesley had his guitar in hand and Riley was already positioned behind his drums. Spike and Xander ran in breathlessly, grabbing up their guitars. Wes gave Xander a puzzled look, to which Xander mouthed back, "Drusilla!" Wesley and Riley both said, "Ah!" with a knowing look. The band members and stagehands quickly did a final sound check, making sure everything was plugged in and ready to go.
"Okay guys, ready?" Spike said, turning around. "Hands in!"
Spike, Xander, Riley, and Wesley all faced each other in a circle, putting their hands into the center. "1 -- 2 -- 3 -- Vampires!" they said, warming up.
"Let's do this thing!" Riley exclaimed.
"Break a leg, hell break them both!" Wesley laughed, very excited and very nervous.
Spike laughed at Wesley's traditional pre-performance phrase. "Thanks, Droopy Boy," he said quietly, glancing at his friend.
"Anytime, William," Xander said, fingers gripping his guitar, smirking at the use of Spike's real name. Spike grinned back.
The curtain went up to reveal a tsunami of screaming fans, all there to see the Vamps. Spike stepped forward, grabbing the mike with both hands and brought it up to his lips. "Hello, Los Angeles! We are Vampires in Love, and we're here to have a bloody good time!"
"Are you all ready to rock?!" Riley shouted out. A scream, something akin to the Beatles first appearance on "Ed Sullivan" was all the reply he needed. He put his drumsticks up in the air and counted off "One, two, three, four!"
Andrew watched from the wings as Vampires in Love struck their first chord, the drums kicked in, and the guys started to sing. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked at his watch, 8:00 pm on the dot. Showtime!
A/N: Back again, as usual. Just wrote this chapter pretty quickly to tide you guys over. Got an exam next week, so kind-of in the middle of studying for that. But then again, who isn't? Hope you all liked this! :)