A Clash of Wills
Chapter 1
It was the middle of the night, and a man with blonde hair and green eyes was relaxing outside of a decent bar. He'd been here with his band mates celebrating their signing with Starlight Music, but they'd caught a ride, wanting sleep. As he had the only car, he was staying behind, sobering up before trying to drive.
This was Thorvald Eriksson, lead vocalist and lead guitarist of the Einherjar… and yes, that really was his name.
Thorvald almost jumped with surprise as a girl who looked like she'd been crying sat at the next table over. He looked to her and smiled.
"Hey, are you alright?" He asked softly.
"They dumped me," she said thickly. "They just threw me away! Why did I ever hang with the Misfits?"
"More like Pizza and the Nitwits," he said with a chuckle. "I've heard the stories."
The girl couldn't help but chuckle. "Yeah…"
"I'm Thorvald. You probably don't know my name yet, but my band and I just landed a record deal so… best of luck to us. Who might you be?"
"Cla…". She sighed shakily. "Constance… just… just Constance. I might not be… oh never mind." She started to cry again.
Thorvald sat next to her. "Awww, don't cry…. Are… are you cold, Constance?"
She just nodded.
Thorvald took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her gently.
"I exist to be used up and thrown out," she sobbed. "And it's just pathetic… because I just want to be a part of something…"
"Well if you give up," said Thorvald, "the Nitwits win. I'm guessing you don't want that."
"I… I don't, but… but…"
Thorvald wiped Constance's tears and smiled. "But nothing," he said. "Screw Pizzazz. Screw the Misfits. You don't need those guys. You can hang with us. We'll stick by you." He chuckled. "Come on," he said. "Who needs the Misfits? Fuck 'em."