A/N: My goodness, I can't believe I started writing this nearly a year and a half ago. Bad Fashiongrrl! I'm sorry my muse is so slow. My lovely, wonderful, patient, beautiful fans have been asking for an update. The story was outlined in my head, but other chapters just seem to fly in to build it all up. I know, I'm terrible, aren't I? My personal life has been in a moderate amount of turmoil over the past few months, and I thank all of you for continuing to read. And life never settles down. If it's not one thing, it's another. Y'know what I mean? Of course you do, that's why you read, and you love Spuffy, and you love angst, and you get what life really is. Sigh... forgive me for waxing philosophical at the moment. I'm just in a strange place emotionally.
This chappie was dashed off in 3 separate sets of time, it may not be the best but it's something. I hope that will suffice for the moment. Test in 2 weeks, ahhhhh, so much studying! But without further adieu, I give you Chapter 9 of the "Battle of the Bands" saga.
Spuffy love and Spike-shaped cookies (or just a naked Spike... mmmmm!) - Fashiongrrl
Battle of the Bands
by: Fashiongrrl
Chapter 9: Nostalgia, A Nice Place to Visit
Buffy's eyes fluttered open at 6:30 AM Sunday morning, a very ghastly hour to be up. Normally her mom would get up around 9:00 AM, Dawn would follow suit around 10:00 AM, and Buffy would finally roll out of bed around 11:00 AM. What could she say? She enjoyed her sleep. A lot. But this morning she felt like she was about to burst. Today was the day the Scoobies were venturing to LA to meet Lorne, get a lay of the land, and enjoy themselves.
Buffy knew she should not expect anything extravagant to happen. It's not like they would be offered a record contract magically or asked to sing for someone really important. Things like that didn't happen to normal people. Okay, well of course they did. That's what you heard on "VH1 Behind the Music" or "MTV Diaries;" stories about simple people only trying to make good music who went from rags to riches in an instant. It was the American dream.
She got up and paced her room like a caged tiger. The pinkish-orange glow of morning was starting to filter through the curtains, casting a beautiful mellow aura around her room. Her mind was racing, so many plans, what songs to play, what to wear, what to pack! Buffy sighed, pulling a bag out of the closet. Of course she didn't bother to pack last night, the Scoobies had gone out to the Bronze again. But this time it was to celebrate their good fortune. Moving the bag she spied a notebook in the back corner of the closet. Buffy was surprised it was still there after all these years -- her journal. She pulled it out and ran her hand over the cover, before taking a breath and cracking it open.
September 3, 1996
Dear Journal,
I can't believe Mom made us move to this stupid place! None of my friends know where Sunnydale even is. Who would want to live here??? It's so different from LA. Can you believe they have only one mall? What do they do for fun around here? Why not just send me to boarding school or a convent! Anything would be better than here. Got to go, time for the first day of school. I hope Sunnydale High is at least a little like Hemory. Goodbye LA, hello Sunnyhell.
-Buffy
Buffy smiled while reading that entry. It was the day she had met Willow. It seemed like it was yesterday. She picked up another notebook -- it's not that easy to fit your entire life into a 100 page spiral over the course of 8 years. This journal was from college. By this time she'd given up the whole "dear journal" intro and just wrote. Good times at Sunnydale University. Buffy couldn't believe she'd decided to stay in what she'd first considered to be the hellmouth of the entire world. Somehow Sunnydale grew on her.
April 14, 1999Party time! Friday night! Mu Epsilon is having a spring fling party, and Faith and Anya are dragging us all out. I can't even remember the last time I went to a frat party. I think it must have been last semester? We practice every night, we have a gig coming up in a week, but still nothing. I don't get it. I think I'm going to actually have to start paying attention to my classes once summer session starts. We've got finals in a few weeks, but it wasn't supposed to be like this. We were supposed to go to college for a year, someone would discover us, and it'd all pan out. Oz and Dingoes might have a recording contract in the works! Lucky! Not that they aren't good -- they're amazing. I just hope that's us one day. Oh well, time to get ready. It's been an insane week. But I think this guy in my European History class might like me. His name is Angel and I think he's Irish. Hello salty goodness!
-Buffy
By this time Buffy was on the floor, pulling out notebook after notebook. She came across an entry from a few years ago, most likely somewhere in the middle of junior year. She and Angel had been dating for a while at this point, but it was starting to go downhill. Everything had been rose-colored glasses back then, but in retrospect she couldn't help but smile at their own stupidity and ignorance when things started to go downhill. They'd been two very different people in the first place, and it never made sense why they started dating. But then again, the best things in life often don't make sense.
February 17, 2001Angel and I had the biggest fight today. He's such an ass sometimes! We were practicing for a show, he comes into my apartment, takes one look at us, and gets all broody that I'm not there for him and that my music isn't going to get me anywhere. Everyone keeps asking me why I'm with someone who doesn't believe in me. I wish I knew. Why do I hate him and love him at the same time? This makes no sense.
-B.
She smiled at the last line before shutting the notebooks and replacing them in her closet. No time for nostalgia right now, she had to pack! She got up and started working her way through her wardrobe. Of course it was only going to be a few days, but who knows what kind of fashion emergencies would arise. The Scoobies were set to leave for LA around noon, so she had a few hours, but better not to cut it close. They were going to meet Lorne at Caritas for dinner at 6 pm and iron out the final details for Tuesday's set. He had also mentioned something about possibly getting them in for some studio time with a friend of his. He'd taken an instant liking to the five girls, and he had a good eye for talent. Buffy felt like at least they had one person in this world on their side, and that was enough to keep holding on -- for now.
Spike's pen flew across the paper furiously, leaving jagged words stern across the page. It was 6:30 AM in LA, and he still hadn't gone to bed. The Vamps had tried to drown their sorrows last night, but they were in a deep depression that couldn't even be remedied by alcohol. Of course there were plenty of illicit substances around on the LA circuit, but it was a better idea not to mess with things like that. They'd seen artists kicked off of Magic Box's roster, no matter how important and how talented and how financially critical they were. Magic Box Records had a serious policy of running a clean place of business, something that was rarely seen in the music industry, but something that kept attracting only certain people through their doors. Less mess, less legal drama, less financial troubles, it seemed to work out better this way.
Spike was a mess of confusion, anger, hatred, and rage on the inside. It'd been only a day since the band had received the terrible news that their very first tour (and now looking like what might be their last tour if they didn't find a solution) was about to be cancelled. His outlet for his emotions was through song, which is perhaps why there was so much of him invested into every piece he wrote. Xander and Spike primarily wrote, while Wes and Riley took care of the musical accompaniment. Several years of classical piano for Wesley and an intense regimen of drums, trumpet, and various other percussion instruments for Riley helped the duo string together the most beautiful simplistic but complicated melodies and harmonies that were quickly becoming a Vampires in Love trademark along with the Edwards/Harris songwriting team.
In short, he was pissed off. Pissed at the world, pissed at Parker, pissed at Magic Box, pissed at Wolfram Industries, pissed at Drusilla, basically pissed off at anyone and everyone and everything in the entire universe this morning. Everything had started to take off a few months ago, and all of a sudden it was like someone snatched it away, knocking the wind out of him, sending him dangerously close to a bout of depression.
They'd spent so much time trying to get to the top. The Vamps had invested so much of their young lives into this career, into making music take off. Of course 26 wasn't terribly old, but he felt old. Years and years of taking care of Wes, years of missing his mother, years of striving for the affection of his father, years of writing songs no one ever heard, years of playing the guitar so hard to vent his frustrations that it caused blisters to form at his fingertips, and perhaps on his very soul.
He remembered the first song he'd written -- all those years ago. All for a girl named Cecily. It was always about a girl, wasn't it? Seemed like it. She'd laughed in his idealistic face. He was only 17, gangly, skinny, a mess of brown curls, oversized glasses, and teen angst so deep he wasn't sure where it would end. Of course Cecily never liked it. She'd crushed his spirit, spitting out words he'd never forget no matter how long he lived, "you're beneath me, William." He was beneath her, so he'd risen to the occasion. He wrote and wrote and wrote. Suddenly Cecily didn't seem so important anymore, but music did. It ignited a terrific fire in his depths that couldn't be quelled. Words struggled to get out; lyrics had to make their way from his lips into the world. That's what music meant to him. That's what the Vampires meant to him. That's why this was the most frustrating and painful thing in the entire universe.
His life was falling apart before his eyes and he was powerless to do anything. You can't make someone love you, you can't make a multi-million dollar corporation let you run the show, you can't use years of blood, sweat, and tears as a guarantee that you're going to make it. He was on a ledge, ready to throw himself over, back into an oblivion he'd hit several years ago, right after his mother's death, and it was something he never wanted to touch again. It didn't matter that the circumstances were different, all that mattered was that there were circumstances dark enough to pull him back into himself and become the creature he struggled so long to be rid of inside.
Buffy jerked her head up from her packing, a voice on the radio cutting through her distraction.
"Good morning chickadees, it's DJ Lorne stopping in to visit my favorite morning DJ's at KROQ. I've got a special treat for you on the So Local SoCal Beat. As you know, every morning we showcase a new local band, and today I've got the greatest one for you. I was saving this one for tomorrow morning, but I can't help myself! Don't worry, I know all of you are going to love this band, and worry that no one will get to hear it tomorrow morning. This is still scheduled for the Monday morning edition of the So Local SoCal Beat, but for all you lucky early birds here's a preview. This reminds me of what real music should sound like. Ah, nostalgia. It's so in right now. A little backstory first, so Friday night I was down in a little time called Sunnydale..."
Her eyes widened as she realized what was about to happen. She couldn't believe it. Jumping up, she ran through the house screaming, "Dawn!!! Wake up! Mom! Turn on KROQ!!! Now!!!" Grabbing the phone she dialed Willow's number frantically. Lorne had said he'd wanted a copy of their tape and that maybe he'd get it on the radio, but no promises. She couldn't believe their luck. They had given Lorne a demo, and he said perhaps he'd find a way to get some airplay for them, but she'd never imagined that he'd be able to get them on "The Beat!" as it was referred to in tre posh music circles.
"Hello?" answered a groggy Willow.
"WILLS!!! Turn on KROQ, we're on The Beat! Call Tara, I'm going to call Faith and Anya. Now!!!" Buffy shouted into the phone, while jumping around the house with glee.
"OH MY GOD! Calling Tara, check! Bye!" Willow said in one breath, as she reached for the radio with the other.
One by one the Scoobies turned on KROQ and danced like maniacs through the house, screaming at the tops of their lungs, knowing full well today was going to be a great day.
Spike ripped a sheet from the notepad resting in his lap, words strewn across the page as if he'd opened his brain and let them leak out. He smiled at the beauty of his words, knowing this one would be a hit. Despite the circumstances, Spike still had that gift for words in him. Thank goodness he at least had that. A weary peace settled around him, associated with the fact that he'd just written a nearly amazing song. With a little help from Xander he knew it would be perfect.
He folded the sheet in half and placed on the nightstand, next to his clock. It read 7:00 AM. He flipped on the radio, hoping it the soothing strains of KROQ would help him drift to sleep. Emotionally and physically exhausted, he let his head fall back onto the pillow hoping for a few hours of sleep before his scores of meetings with everyone under the sun in the music industry.
Lorne's voice traveled across the room announcing the latest group to make a debut on The Beat, as an already sleepy Spike started to lose consciousness. He wasn't sure if it was real, but the last thing he heard was the angelic strains of "I want you, I need you, I think I melt without you..." echoing from his radio. Halfway to a dream state, he smiled subconsciously before letting the REMs take over. It was in that moment that he knew, no matter what the stressors this situation was bringing him, something was trying to tell him that somehow it would be all right.
A/N: I hope you liked it. Sort of trying to tie things together. Off to study for an exam, wish me luck. And I turn 24 in a few days... someone get me out of here! I wanna be a kid again.;) Ahhh, real life, dontcha just love it? Sorry for all those of you lovlies whose stories I have not been able to keep up with recently. You know I love you all and will read as soon as ... well as soon as I get my MD in like 1.5 more years of scutwork, med schooling, living out of the hospital 20 out of 24 hours a day, never sleeping, scarfing down junk food, doing power yoga, balancing life and school/work like everyone else, and loving every bloody minute of it! I live for pressure!!! Hehehehehe.Hugs to all! :) - FG