"Kelly, it's the perfect plan. Signing this band is going to be the greatest thing since—", "since–Big Time Rush?", Kelly's quick interruption on Gustavo's enthusiastic and blinding plans, snapped Gustavo back to reality; for his new ambitions had some undertones that worried Kelly. Her facial expression said it, herself feeling her eyebrows furrow more deeper, creating forehead creases; alerting Gustavo.
"All my artists have my equal attention. Nothing will change that", Gustavo spoke firmly and cool; but his physical mannerisms said differently. He was drenched in pre-sweat that spewed from his greed, and him being bugged-eyed. "With this new band, I'll be more richer than ever–", with that, there was a big cough in the air, interrupting and popping the egoistical bubble that Gustavo has inflated for himself—making both Gustavo, and Kelly jump from fright.
"You mean make me richer?", there stood tall, domineering, and eccentric Rocque Records CEO, Griffin, slyly smiling, with his African-American trusted companion, Abdul, and assistant by his side—with brass knuckles, and paperwork. "Where is my new rockstar, Gustavo?", Griffin's unpredictable smile made Gustavo quiver inside but, held it together, "Do not worry, Griffin. The band will be here soon later today—Kelly finally got the band an apartment in the Palm Woods, so they'll be closer to the studio. The lead singer should be at the Palm Woods later today", and with that statement, Kelly smiled widely with a toothy smile, but not out of pride–out of nervousness.
"Good", Griffin's 'good' was extended smoothly, "I must say Gustavo, I just got some pre-promotional shoots with this band, and that lead singer will definitely bring us more money"–"ahhh Gustavo, good job", and with that, he patted Gustavo's face – as if in, he was a child; Gustavo's chubby face jiggled with the palm to skin contact.
His money cow machine. Just milks, and milks for more cash.
The cab smelled of piss, and dirty old leather from the seats. The compulsive anxious tapping of the pointy shiny black acrylic fingernail against the guitar case; out of impatient boredom, stemming from the long traffic.
The cab driver not being able to take his eyes off the female passenger in the backseat, and failing at being discreet. The sweat beading down on his forehead due to the intimidation that oozes out of this passenger—and the continuous tapping doesn't help.
This female passenger dug into her black leather purse to retrieve her Marlboros. Slender carmel-pigmented fingers flipped open the box, and swiftly took out a cig. Quickly put it into her mouth, and started to look for her light.
From her skin-tight black leather pants, to her leather studded blazer that held band buttons such as Slayer, Pink Floyd, Nirvana, The Distillers, The Rolling Stones, Sonic Youth, Marilyn Manson, The Cure, and many more; to her unkempt jet black hair, her smooth coco-butter glimmering skin.
Her nails fidgeting with mini-belts on her black fetish dominatrix Stiletto platforms—to finally the most obscure piece of clothing on this figure: her 'I Fuck For Satan' tee.
Finally found the light deep within her purse, she lit her cigarette; her cupping the flame to the cigarette. She lifted her head to inhale, the smoke between her first two fingers, her eyes squinting from the deep inhale.
"No smoking in the cab!", the driver shouted from the front, turning around to face the passenger. Her eyes lowered, forming into a devilish smirk—the slight darkness under her eyes, and the deadly black eyeshadow made her seem more cynical, which terrified the driver even more.
Instead of putting the smoke out, she took another drag, and blew the smoke towards the driver's face. Menicinally laughing at the driver's frustrated growl.
"We're here. That'll be fifthteen bucks", and with that, the female roughly put the money into the cab driver's palm. Lifted her guitar case from the cab floor, open the side door, and took her first step out of the car with her Stiletto heel; that shined with it's black shine.
Standing out of the cab, slamming the door behind her.
Standing infront of the Palm Woods, and began walking towards the entrance, with guitar case in hand; her guitar case completely covered in band stickers, and carvings.
Even a sticker of her band's name: Idle Enemies.
Young actors and young musicians around the front entrance of the Palm Woods, once buzzing in their own little worlds, now captured by this mysterious and dark stranger. With daggers for eyes, a lit cigarette in her mouth, outrageous shirt, and the energy to kill; everybody shocked—speechless.
As she reached the entrance, as the doors open with more people, who quickly got out of her way; holding the doors for her out of frozen shock. Rudely not excusing herself, but pushed her way through the doors. More people quickly getting out of her way, as she coolly walked through the lobby to the front desk.
She slammed her hand on the front desk, where stood an over-weight man, "Jones", she mumbled loudly whilst her cigarette in her mouth; the frightened over-weight man looked up her name in the residents system on his desk computer very quickly, and opened his drawer for the room key.
"Okay, here's your room key", and with that, she snatched the room key, causing the man to jump from fear.
Continued to walk towards the elevator, walking like fierce fire; her hips swaying perfectly in her skin-tight pants. Her grip on her guitar case even tighter. The leather still gleaming off her pants, that catches the eyes of awe-struck men, and the heartening intimidation by the women of the lobby.
As the dark stranger got closer to the elevator, she took her smoke out of her mouth, and tapped on the cigarette - with the tip of her sharp black nail - for the excess ashes to drop into the plants that sat near the elevator.
As she placed the smoke back in her mouth, she pressed the elevator button. Waiting for the elevator, distant whispering can be heard; which made her smirk maliciously.
Quickly the elevator dinged, and it opened. Chattering coming from the elevator, out came four young guys busy laughing to only be caught off guard, their faces changing from joy to astonishment very quickly to see the new stranger. As they descended from the elevator, getting out of her way—herself walking straight inside.
Now the four guys out of the elevator—there the mysterious woman turned around to reveal her face, the cigarette still in her mouth, and her dark aura oozing in all directions. Her appearance completely different from the norm of other girls here—the usual female of the Palm Woods that has become all too common.
This one is different.
All four guys froze: one with his jaw dropped, one with an taken back surprise, one stuck with his mouth opened with his finger pointing (who also, has an obscure black helmet on), and one smiling gleefully—all at her perfect goth enigma, and insatiable structure.
Something the Palm Woods has been itching for — a woman who has divergent intents that can be deliciously done.
Her right eyebrow lifted from amusement. She inhaled her cigarette again, titled her head back a bit, staring down at them with her dark eyes; flawlessly the exhaled smoke was released from her parted lips; and with that, she pressed the button to her floor, and the elevator closed.
There the four young guys stood there frozen.
These four guys: one with brushed up raven hair, one with an helmet, one with his hair brushed down to the side, and one with dark blondish who wears an plaid shirt.
Came along a young girl with the same facial features as the man with the plaid shirt, was walking towards the elevator, "Ah, you guys must've seen the new girl, huh? She's hot".
Able to hear her, but too stunned to respond.
"Ugh", and with that aggravated huff, she clapped her hands really loudly that finally awakened them from their haze. All now excited, dashing to the front desk, "thank you, Katie", and with that, they ran.
"Anytime", she replied, and began walking away.
Crazed noise commotion now being created by the four guys, trampling each other to get to the front desk, causing people in the lobby to stare.
"WHO IS SHE?!"
"YOU HAVE TO TELL US!"
"WHO THE FUCK IS SHE?!"
"TELL US WHO SHE IS?!
"TELL US!"
"WHAT'S HER NAME, DAMMIT?!"
"BITTERS, TELL US!"
"WHO IS SHE?!"
"WHAT'S HER NAME?!"
"WHAT'S HER NAME?!"
"WHAT'S HER NAME?!"
"WHAT'S HER NAME?!"
"WHAT'S HER NAME?!"
"TELL US!"
All at once shouting at the man from front-desk, who goes by the name, Bitters. Bitters lifting his hands in defense, shouting back at them to cease the noise pollution.
"Calm down! Calm down!", Bitters shouted back, waving his hands at them to cut it out. "What's her name?", the plaid shirt fitted one insisted, with his palms desperately planted on the desk, as the others hovered.
"That's residence confidentiality!", he shouted back.
"That didn't stop you before!", the one with the raven hair spat back, with the rest all humming synchronized in agreement.
"And this time, I won't cave in, like the last time when the last rocker who moved here", with that the guys were pissed. "C'mon, Bitters! We'll give you money", the helmet one enthusiastically belted, with the others agreeing.
"No thanks. I still have your four dollars, and sixty-five cents from the last time", Bitters coldly, and sarcastically snapped at the group. All of them huffed with defeat, and aggravation.
"Now excuse me, I have to go somewhere to ignore you", and just as Bitters was about to leave, he turned to the four men, "but I wouldn't fuck with this one if I were you", causing them to look at him, "this one shouldn't be messed with. She's way out of all your leagues", and with that, he swiftly left his front desk to go to his office.
Not even a moment of silence passed, that the four guys began arguing over who gets to talk to the new girl first.
"NO, I GET HER!"
"NO, I WANT HER!"
"YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!"
"SHE WILL BE MINE!"
"I NEED HER!"
"FUCK OFF, I'M THE ONLY WHO CAN GET HER!"
And with that last declared claim over a unknown woman from the dark brown straight haired one, the other three ceased. "Oh, why are you so fucking sure, you'll get her, James?", the one in plaid shouted back.
"Because I'm–", with the bedazzled finger gesture near his face, to vainly enhance his egotistical perception of his stunning beauty, "– James Diamond. No woman can resist me". He stiffened himself into a model pose to up-one his friends.
"Get real, James", the helmet one said, bursting his friend's bubble, and getting a mean glare in return. "She'll go for me! I'm more fun to be around", he said with a goofy toothy smile, but his confidence was crushed quickly.
"More like hazardous to be around", the raven-haired one clapped back; earning laughter form the other two. "Carlos, you can be an idiot–", and with that, Carlos screamed, "YOU TAKE THAT BACK!", and with that, him attacking his friend; resulting with them both wrestling on the floor.
"Take it back, Logan!" "Never!", with the other two watching intently on their two friends fighting, James quickly turned to the dirty-blonde, "AND YOU - no talkie, talkie to the new girl. I called dibs!"
"Fuck no, James! That's not fair! You didn't loudly said dibs for the rest of the group to hear!", him saying that, Logan and Carlos paused on their fighting, "He's right", and then resumed back to fist fighting.
James was about to say something but was paused again, "And even if you called dibs, it's invalid because we all agreed, and signed to remove girls off the Rules Of Dibs! Remember?!".
James stomped his foot on the floor like a frustrated infantile, "Too bad, Kendall! She will be mine!", but that just caused Logan's and Carlo's competitive fire, both yelling, "SHE WILL BE MINE!"
James got closer to Kendall, more in his face, "And I mean really?", he flicked his finger on Kendall's shirt collar, "Girls don't go for plaid", and with that, Kendall smacked his hand away.
The new girl is someone Kendall yearns for ever since his final breakup with Jo awhile back. Looking at the new girl was a wave of relief, and anxiety. Anxiety of desire, uncontrollable desire.