Title – Fia'in Summer
Summary –Two lives being led by one person. Buffy Summers is the newly famous punk singer Fia'in Slayer, what happens when her friends find out.
Disclaimer – Not mine! All characters belong to Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon
Rating – Pg-13, I suppose.
A/N – Song Lyrics from Blink 182, Not By Choice
Chapter 9
My hair, pink with purple highlights, is styled to perfection. I have decided that my black leathers and white tank would be perfect for the first section of the concert. Slipping the contacts in from the dressing table, I glance over my reflection quickly. I finally look like me again. I really do despise those preppy looking clothing.
Finishing the dressing I step into the make-up area and sit in front of a mirror waiting for the artists to start. Only moments of sitting, I hear the door open and Fred walks in.
"Love the outfit Fred, looks good," I say with a low a whistle.
Fred is normally a shy individual. For her type of body she sure likes to dress conservatively. So it is quite different, to see her in tight black jeans and a sleeveless crimson red shirt with a black, wool overcoat. She looks good.
Sitting on the chair at the next table over she retorts, "that's the idea Slayer. Plus it's what the wardrobe people said to wear."
"Knew you never wear something like that on your own." I say to Fred.
"Not everyone has you tastes Slayer," teases a gruff voice from behind me.
Swirling around I whistle at Gunn as he comes into view. He was wearing black leathers like myself and a long-sleeved, silk red button-up, mighty tasty looking.
"Looking good Gunn, let me guess wardrobe told you what to wear," I state while turning back around.
Gunn usually didn't dress too high. A pair of comfy jeans and comfortable shirt would make him happy. He and Fred seem to finish each other off. It's wonderful to see them so happy.
I envy their relationship for now I am unable to have that. They don't have secret lives from the world or others. They are just Fred and Gunn. I may envy them but I can say I love my life. It may not be the easiest life but it allows me to do what I love and still be somewhat normal.
"Come now, you know I never let anyone dress me. I don't trust these people to not dress me like a clown. So I looked at your guy's outfits and picked something that matched and got it approved." He informs me while stalking to the chair opposite of us.
Moments later the make-up artists enter followed by Giles. He must be here for the pep speech that he gives us before each concert. Giles has been our manager since our first year in the music business. He is the best manger our band could hope for. But he is more to me than that. He was my father, maybe not biologically but when it counts he is the one that fills the title. He is actually my stepfather.
It was only weeks after being introduced to my mother that a relationship was sparked between them. A year after meeting they were happily married. I was happy for them, but times soon turned for the worst when my mother died in a car accident, while returning from a business trip only months after their marrige. That year was tough on me and Giles both.
"Buffy, you friends were sent those passes you asked for. So make sure you are not recognized. That isn't something you need to deal with right now. Gunn try to stay away from the ladies after the show. I know you like the fawning they do over you, but you're with Fred and you have an image to uphold. Fred I'm looking to you to keep these two out of trouble." He begins after artists finish up our make-up. "Now there isn't anything else I really have to say, except good luck and be good," he finishes as he leaves the room once again following the artists out.
We sit in the dressing room for another hour talking, before we head out to take the stage. My palms sweat in nervous anticipation, as I take my spot in front of the microphone. In the small area of my mind that isn't clouded with anticipation, I can hear the back stage crew count to three.
Lights flash on. Lighting up the stage in an array of colors. Hearing the beat of Fred's drums and the strum of Gunn's guitar signaling the beginning of the first song, I prepare myself for the next cords.
All the, small things
True care, truth brings
I'll take, one lift
Your ride, best trip
Always, I know
You'll be at my show
Watching, waiting, commiserating
Say it ain't so, I will not go, turn the lights off, carry me home
Na, Na
My nervousness had faded away to nothing before the end of the first verse. All that is pumping through my veins now is the adrenaline of being on stage and doing what I love to do. As I sing I can hear the crowd cheer, increasing my already high adrenaline.
Late night, come home
Work sucks, I know
She left me roses by the stairs, surprises let me know she cares
Say it ain't so, I will not go, turn the lights off, carry me home
Na, Na
I scan the crowd looking watching as they sing along with me. Most girls are oogling Gunn, while the guys check over Fred or I. Smiling I fill the next verse with more enthusiasm than the others. I love seeing the reactions of our fans. It fills me with pride that so many, have come to like us.
Say it ain't so, I will not go, turn the lights off, carry me home
Keep your head still, I'll be your thrill, the night will go on, my
little windmill
Say it ain't so, I will not go, turn the lights off, carry me home
Keep your head still, I'll be your thrill, the night will go on, my
little windmill
As our first song winds done I pull the next one from my brain. It's sometimes difficult to keep so many songs straight in the mind, but it has become easier with time. I can't wait until the end of the show. I'll be able to relax, and forget about the stress of the concert. I love doing concerts, but they're so stressful that I usually only do one or two major ones a year. Can't have all my time taken up.
Through the rest of the night we're high on adrenaline. The cheers of the crowd, the rush of performing, and the thought of ending the concert surge us on. As we finish another song we, prepare to finish the concert. The night has passed so quickly, I couldn't believe that we were already on our last song.
Today's the day to
Set the record straight
But there's a price you have to pay
Now you found out
What you really need
You don't know if you can stay
Don't want to do it again
Don't want to listen to your friends
Don't want to do it again
No one really gives a damn
Now you know how the story goes
It's just a game but no knows
Now you know how the story goes
Your always thinking of the way it used to be
Today's the day to
Give back to them
But you don't want to play their game
Now your jaded
As the days go by
You don't know if you can stay
Wrapping up the last song, we stand on the stage for a few moments before making our way off the stage. The rush is already slowly receding, as we enter the dressing room. Finally able to sit, we all fall onto the couch in disarray.
Summary –Two lives being led by one person. Buffy Summers is the newly famous punk singer Fia'in Slayer, what happens when her friends find out.
Disclaimer – Not mine! All characters belong to Mutant Enemy and Joss Whedon
Rating – Pg-13, I suppose.
A/N – Song Lyrics from Blink 182, Not By Choice
Chapter 9
My hair, pink with purple highlights, is styled to perfection. I have decided that my black leathers and white tank would be perfect for the first section of the concert. Slipping the contacts in from the dressing table, I glance over my reflection quickly. I finally look like me again. I really do despise those preppy looking clothing.
Finishing the dressing I step into the make-up area and sit in front of a mirror waiting for the artists to start. Only moments of sitting, I hear the door open and Fred walks in.
"Love the outfit Fred, looks good," I say with a low a whistle.
Fred is normally a shy individual. For her type of body she sure likes to dress conservatively. So it is quite different, to see her in tight black jeans and a sleeveless crimson red shirt with a black, wool overcoat. She looks good.
Sitting on the chair at the next table over she retorts, "that's the idea Slayer. Plus it's what the wardrobe people said to wear."
"Knew you never wear something like that on your own." I say to Fred.
"Not everyone has you tastes Slayer," teases a gruff voice from behind me.
Swirling around I whistle at Gunn as he comes into view. He was wearing black leathers like myself and a long-sleeved, silk red button-up, mighty tasty looking.
"Looking good Gunn, let me guess wardrobe told you what to wear," I state while turning back around.
Gunn usually didn't dress too high. A pair of comfy jeans and comfortable shirt would make him happy. He and Fred seem to finish each other off. It's wonderful to see them so happy.
I envy their relationship for now I am unable to have that. They don't have secret lives from the world or others. They are just Fred and Gunn. I may envy them but I can say I love my life. It may not be the easiest life but it allows me to do what I love and still be somewhat normal.
"Come now, you know I never let anyone dress me. I don't trust these people to not dress me like a clown. So I looked at your guy's outfits and picked something that matched and got it approved." He informs me while stalking to the chair opposite of us.
Moments later the make-up artists enter followed by Giles. He must be here for the pep speech that he gives us before each concert. Giles has been our manager since our first year in the music business. He is the best manger our band could hope for. But he is more to me than that. He was my father, maybe not biologically but when it counts he is the one that fills the title. He is actually my stepfather.
It was only weeks after being introduced to my mother that a relationship was sparked between them. A year after meeting they were happily married. I was happy for them, but times soon turned for the worst when my mother died in a car accident, while returning from a business trip only months after their marrige. That year was tough on me and Giles both.
"Buffy, you friends were sent those passes you asked for. So make sure you are not recognized. That isn't something you need to deal with right now. Gunn try to stay away from the ladies after the show. I know you like the fawning they do over you, but you're with Fred and you have an image to uphold. Fred I'm looking to you to keep these two out of trouble." He begins after artists finish up our make-up. "Now there isn't anything else I really have to say, except good luck and be good," he finishes as he leaves the room once again following the artists out.
We sit in the dressing room for another hour talking, before we head out to take the stage. My palms sweat in nervous anticipation, as I take my spot in front of the microphone. In the small area of my mind that isn't clouded with anticipation, I can hear the back stage crew count to three.
Lights flash on. Lighting up the stage in an array of colors. Hearing the beat of Fred's drums and the strum of Gunn's guitar signaling the beginning of the first song, I prepare myself for the next cords.
All the, small things
True care, truth brings
I'll take, one lift
Your ride, best trip
Always, I know
You'll be at my show
Watching, waiting, commiserating
Say it ain't so, I will not go, turn the lights off, carry me home
Na, Na
My nervousness had faded away to nothing before the end of the first verse. All that is pumping through my veins now is the adrenaline of being on stage and doing what I love to do. As I sing I can hear the crowd cheer, increasing my already high adrenaline.
Late night, come home
Work sucks, I know
She left me roses by the stairs, surprises let me know she cares
Say it ain't so, I will not go, turn the lights off, carry me home
Na, Na
I scan the crowd looking watching as they sing along with me. Most girls are oogling Gunn, while the guys check over Fred or I. Smiling I fill the next verse with more enthusiasm than the others. I love seeing the reactions of our fans. It fills me with pride that so many, have come to like us.
Say it ain't so, I will not go, turn the lights off, carry me home
Keep your head still, I'll be your thrill, the night will go on, my
little windmill
Say it ain't so, I will not go, turn the lights off, carry me home
Keep your head still, I'll be your thrill, the night will go on, my
little windmill
As our first song winds done I pull the next one from my brain. It's sometimes difficult to keep so many songs straight in the mind, but it has become easier with time. I can't wait until the end of the show. I'll be able to relax, and forget about the stress of the concert. I love doing concerts, but they're so stressful that I usually only do one or two major ones a year. Can't have all my time taken up.
Through the rest of the night we're high on adrenaline. The cheers of the crowd, the rush of performing, and the thought of ending the concert surge us on. As we finish another song we, prepare to finish the concert. The night has passed so quickly, I couldn't believe that we were already on our last song.
Today's the day to
Set the record straight
But there's a price you have to pay
Now you found out
What you really need
You don't know if you can stay
Don't want to do it again
Don't want to listen to your friends
Don't want to do it again
No one really gives a damn
Now you know how the story goes
It's just a game but no knows
Now you know how the story goes
Your always thinking of the way it used to be
Today's the day to
Give back to them
But you don't want to play their game
Now your jaded
As the days go by
You don't know if you can stay
Wrapping up the last song, we stand on the stage for a few moments before making our way off the stage. The rush is already slowly receding, as we enter the dressing room. Finally able to sit, we all fall onto the couch in disarray.