Warning: smut incoming

Song lyrics for this chapter: Mrs. Officer by Lil Wayne, Bobby V and Kidd Kidd


A few weeks later, Grace was in her private dressing room looking at herself in the mirror again with a whiskey bottle in hand. Her look for the night was divine; Pam had selected a black Valentino dress with a fitted bodice and voluminous lace skirt. Her make-up was sharp and her hair was slicked back. But Grace had added her own embellishments to her appearance lately. While the singer found a lot of free time between practice sessions, she'd cashed in one of her vacation days to spend interrupted hours practicing self-care in downtown Shreveport. She started with an elaborate lunch, followed by a stroll in Riverview Park and then a stop at the most popular tattoo and piercing shop. There she dropped over two thousand dollars on diamonds for her new cartilage piercings, a gold and ruby barbell for her existing rook, a pearl stud for her new nose piercing and a delicate floral tattoo on her sternum. The last one was a needed self-esteem boost; Grace hated the wide gap between her teardrop-shaped breasts and decided to put something beautiful between them to cover it up. Now, the roses of the tattoo subtly revealed themselves when she wore low-cut tops instead.

The new purchases were definitely an attempt to distract herself from her current predicament; she'd mostly been saving her earnings but decided to throw caution to the wind to raise her spirits. Living alone under Fangtasia's patronage had been nice at first. Grace didn't have to worry about her bank account. She wouldn't have to pack up every few weeks and drive until she hit the next motel. She had healthy food at her disposal instead of endless fast food meals on the road. Her body felt great, but after a while, her doubts started to gnaw at her sanity. What the fuck was she doing, thinking that indulging her dark side would be a good idea? Had she been too obvious with her performances, did others know what she could do?

Was she in danger?

Eric had hinted at something, but Louis was acting differently too. He'd been keeping her at a slight distance since the last show and it hurt. She considered him a friend and mentor. He was so talented and had taught her so much about music and where you could take it. But could he see what she was turning into as well? Did he know she was starting to have a problem? Grace spent countless hours alone drinking and smoking more than normal, arguing with herself in her head, pacing around the house and holding an erratic sleep schedule. But she still made sure always to be available to feed Bert. The cat was the only thing holding her together.

The most significant blow came when Louis told her she would take a backseat for the next performance. Grace sulked at her new place on the side instead of front and center - how would she find that high she craved now? - but then realized she was being a selfish fucking dumb bitch after Louis explained the concept of the show. The real reason for her subdued role was the recent police activity in Shreveport. The boys in brass had started policing Black communities more than normal, particularly going after vampires living within those neighborhoods. Nan Flannigan did her best to speak out about the unfair treatment, but it didn't stop, not when it had the silent backing of the human conservative constituency. Eric made an official statement on behalf of his Area, but Louis demanded those affected also deliver a response. He wanted the band to use their platform to broadcast dissent.

"Good evening ladies and gentlemen. Please silence your cellphones and enjoy the show."

Grace took a final swig of whiskey and went to the stage after the crowd started shouting for the show to begin. Louis kicked things off with his master of ceremonies speech and hinted that things would be slightly different that night. He, André and Imani then proceeded to take the biggest solos; Grace still felt the crowd's energy and the familiar high when she sang her parts, but it was a fraction of the feeling she'd experienced before. The audience was instead cheering on the old fashioned protest music; they particularly enjoyed Louis' rendition of 'Strange Fruit' by Billie Holiday.

Grace made sure to be a professional and keep up her Gigi appearances, but inside she felt her emotional stability wilt. Because something else began to pull her down. Eric's eyes never left her for the entire show and it crushed her instead of bringing her pleasure. Grace longed to see him privately again but convinced herself that was a bad idea. He was doing a very good job keeping his distance until tonight; she'd only heard his name on other vampires' lips since their last meeting in her dressing room. So was he a friend or foe? What was he hiding, what did he know? The questions had swirled in her head for weeks and as a result, Grace attempted to make Leon a nice diversion since he continued to spend money at the club. He even sent extravagant gifts to Fangtasia for her to open in front of everyone. But the gambler never pursued her romantically, he just liked dropping dollars like she'd charmed him to do. Grace spent time with her new vibrator to keep herself satisfied in the meantime, but it wasn't the same as the real thing. She wanted Eric and he was toying with her, which made his current attention sting.

"Alright y'all, we've got one more," Louis announced. "Now, who here is familiar with a, uh, Mr. Carter?" The crowd whistled and roared. The New Orleans rapper had just released his new album 'Tha Carter III' earlier that year and it was constantly bumping on all the Louisiana radio stations. Even the vampire community had been listening to it.

"Then you're going to like this one," André smirked before drumming out a new beat. Jin added his bass notes to help keep the tempo and Louis translated the song's original guitar riffs into classic piano chords; they would do the cover big jazz band style, true to their sound. Imani led the initial chorus and Samira, Ana and Grace sang the backup vocals to support her. Louis plucked a pair of sunglasses off the piano and put them on before launching into his lyrics with a raspy and playful voice.

Doing a buck in the latest drop

I got stopped by a lady cop

She got me thinking I can date a cop

'Cause her uniform pants are so tight

She read me my rights

She put me in a car, she cut off all the lights

She said I have the right to remain silent

Now I got her hollering, sounding like a siren

Talking 'bout

Wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee, Wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee

Wee-ooh-wee-ooh-wee

A few vampires cheered and whistled. Grace glanced over to Eric and his smirk grew. Fuck, she needed to stop thinking about him. It was starting to get pathetic.

And I know she the law, and she know I'm the boss

And she know I get high, a-bove the law

And she know I'm raw, she know it from the street

And all she want me to do is fuck the police

Leon's entire table howled with enjoyment and shouted 'like a cop car!' after each batch of siren noises Grace moaned. She felt a jolt of power as the humans sang along with Imani's choruses and raised their glasses; other tables followed suit. André picked up the next verse, impressively rapping and drumming simultaneously, and once the entire company sang the final chorus, the audience gave them a huge standing ovation. A few people kept the siren noises going and soon, everyone in Fangtasia was chanting alongside them.

"Thanks y'all for coming out tonight and supporting our community!" Imani cried.

"We ain't going nowhere!" André followed. "Call your elected officials to make them stop this brutality!"

"We've left their numbers on your tables," Samira added.

"Goodnight! We'll be back in December!" Louis ended, putting his closed fist in the air. The crowd mirrored his gesture and started chanting the siren noises again as the band left the stage. Grace's body faintly hummed with electricity as she followed them back to the central green room and kept to the background, watching them celebrate. She still felt low but wouldn't get in the way of their enjoyment.

"Louis, we should do more modern covers," Samira said between sips of blood. "They loved it."

"Oh I can think of some fun ones for her to do," Ana sniggered, looking over at Grace. The singer displayed a forced smile before taking a large gulp of whiskey.

"Well, is it time to call ourselves?" André grinned. Imani cackled, pulled out her phone and dialed the Shreveport state senate representative's office. It was late, so it went straight to voicemail, but each band member took turns shouting into the phone about their grievances. Louis started laughing when Jin swore profusely during the recording. The bassist was usually shy and introverted, but not tonight.

The vampires started singing the siren noises again and someone put on the real version of the song; the rest of the 'Tha Carter III' continued on as they still celebrated. Grace stuck around for a bit longer and finished the rest of her whiskey bottle. The more she drank, the better she felt, but soon it was going to be time for her to go home. She didn't have the energy to keep up. Grace stumbled out of her dress and put on a pair of baggy ripped jeans and a comfy shirt before opening her dressing room door and wandering off to find Vincenzo. She completely missed Eric hiding in the shadows, looking at her longingly and sniffing the air for her scent after she went out the back door to the parking lot.


The Shreveport police department eventually heard about their performance and phone calls; the Chief wasn't happy, especially with their last number of the night. Fangtasia heightened its security and braced for impact, but nothing immediately materialized. Grace figured the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday was likely the cause for the silence. As for what her plans would be for that day … well, she had a tradition. Cringe while talking to her parents for a few minutes and then hit a local dive bar to hang with a different type of family for the night. Usually, that was the accompanying band if she had a gig or friends in a familiar town, but this year Grace found out that none of the vampires cared enough to celebrate. They explained that holidays had less meaning when you were immortal, which she supposed made sense. So she'd be on her own … and she was not looking forward to it.

"Hi Mom," Grace said through her teeth, "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Gracie, is that you?" her mother cried. "George, it's Grace! Come here!"

The singer placed her iPhone on the table and put it on speakerphone; she softly lit a joint and waited for her father to come over. There were shouts in the background from her brother Henry's family who visited their parents' house on holidays when they could. Henry was a military man just like his dad and did his best to keep up relationships when he was between deployments. Grace, on the other hand, couldn't stand the thought of being with them on holidays. She didn't mind San Diego, her parents had settled there with some of the retired Navy community. But she hated watching her mother dote on her alcoholic spouse and make excuses for his behavior. Grace loved her dearly and it was the only reason she called at all, but the drama was too much to bear. Over the years her family accepted the excuses - oh I'm about to walk into an audition can't talk, I have a show that night can't visit, I have to drive in the opposite direction tomorrow, that timing won't work - and stopped inviting her over.

"Sandra, give me the phone. Grace?"

"Hi Dad," she gulped. She hated it when he called her Sandra. Her real name was Alessandra, but he never liked using it. "How was the turkey?"

"Dry."

"Well, maybe try not to cook it so much next time."

"It was Henry's fault. That boy doesn't know how to do anything."

Grace grimaced, took a puff of her joint and tapped it in the ashtray. Of course her father would complain about her brother. Never mind that he was top of his class and an accomplished soldier. No one could live up to George's standards, especially not Grace. She wasn't stoic, strict or calculating; she was an artist with sensitivities. It was why she'd left him for Los Angeles at eighteen and never looked back.

"Henry, come say hi to your sister!" her mother called.

"Oh Mom, it's ok. I'm sure he's busy with the kids."

"Gracie!" Henry boomed. "Our little baby!"

"Hi Henry," she mumbled, exhaling smoke. She loathed when he said that, she wasn't that much younger than him. "Good to have you stateside."

"Say, where are you these days?"

"Shreveport, Louisiana," Grace admitted. "I found a gig and I'll be here for the foreseeable future."

"That's wonderful dear," Alessandra chimed in.

"I don't like Louisiana," George grumbled. "Never have, never will."

"I'll call you if I'm ever in New Orleans," said Henry. "I pass through there sometimes."

"Yeah, sure," Grace nodded absentmindedly as she took a puff. She knew his schedule was erratic, so they may never overlap. And even if they did, she probably wouldn't see him. He wasn't worth a vacation day. "Well look, I have to run."

"Are you with friends?" her mom hoped.

"Yeah, they're in the other room," Grace lied, looking over at the empty dining room. "I need to help with dishes."

"Good girl," George praised. She rolled her eyes at his misogyny.

"Honey I'm so glad to hear you're settling," Alessandra cut in before the call ended. "I'm proud of you."

She winced, happy her mom couldn't see her reaction in person. Alessandra loved to brag that her daughter was a singer, but would she really be proud of her for working at Fangtasia? She knew her dad sure as shit wouldn't. Grace finally ushered them off the phone and took a huge puff from her joint to decompress after the prolonged goodbyes and I love yous from her mom. She knew the woman wanted to be closer and see her more often, but she couldn't handle it. It was too painful.

Grace exhaled, settled into her chair for a moment to absorb the feeling of her oncoming high and then reached for her Macbook to look up local dive bars. She laughed when one popped up in a neighborhood called Stoner Hill and decided to take her chances. She grabbed her purse and fished out the keys to her old Prius; she was wary of driving Eric's gift since she didn't know what the fuck he was up to and she wasn't about to ask for a driver of his. Grace backed out of the driveway, watched the security gate close behind her and spied her tail for the evening when she turned onto the main street. Her mood darkened. She grumbled all the way to the dive bar, cursing Eric and his surveillance.

Grace finally pulled into the parking lot of Dillon's Saloon and looked into her rearview mirror to see the sleek black sedan that had been following her settle into a spot not too far away. She stewed momentarily before slamming her car door shut and entering the bar. It was what Grace expected; a large, dimly lit room decorated with sports memorabilia hosting a skeleton crew of desolate people at booths, pool tables and barstools.

"You got an ID?" the bartender called as soon as she walked in. Grace sighed, not expecting to be carded, and showed her identification to the guy. He nodded and took her order for a double Jack and Coke while she settled onto one of the barstools.

"Hey lady," a creep greeted. He stood next to her and put a hand on the back of her chair, leering at her chest. Ugh, the last thing she wanted. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"I just ordered one," Grace rebuffed. "So no."

"Come on."

"No."

"You sure?"

"The lady said no."

Grace turned to see a burly brunette sitting a few seats from her; he was dressed in a red plaid shirt, ripped jeans and sturdy boots. Her sour mood started to lift as she felt her attraction rise. She didn't need a knight in shining armor to save her but damn, this stranger was handsome as hell. His brown eyes, windswept hair and trimmed beard suited him quite nicely.

"What's this got to do with you, bud?" the creep snarled.

"You really want to try me?" the man countered.

"Hey!" the bartender finally cut in when he came to serve Grace her drink. "Knock it off, Billy. Leave her alone. Sorry about him Ma'am, enjoy your night."

Billy grunted, glared at the bartender and then slumped off to another part of the bar where Grace presumed he'd continue to bother other women. She lazily raised her brows, sighed and then tipped her head back to drain half of her glass; she had ordered the Coke part to make it easier to stand chugging larger quantities of whiskey. She gasped for air and then finished the rest of it, hoping that it would give her a good enough initial buzz. The artist thought about checking the score of the football game on the bar TV for something to do but couldn't resist looking over to see if the man from before was still there. He was, alright. He looked back at her with a curious stare.

"Thanks for earlier," Grace acknowledged. "But I could have taken him myself."

"I'm sure you could have," he chuckled. "But I don't like it when ladies are being mistreated."

"How chivalrous of you."

A silence passed between them as he looked up at the TV; one of the teams had just scored. He took another swig of his beer and Grace bit her lip and found that she didn't want to be drinking alone. Especially not with men like Billy wandering around. She was a little nervous at first, not knowing if he found her attractive enough to talk to, but the alcohol gave her courage.

"Grace," she finally said, extending an invitation with her hand. His eyes moved from the TV to meet her own.

"Alcide," he responded, walking over to sit beside her and shake her hand. His skin was hot, abnormally so, but Grace didn't mind it. It was a nice change from the cold vampire environment she was used to.

"Another one?" the bartender asked.

"Hmmm," Grace mused. She turned to her new friend. "You want a beer?" Alcide smiled softly and nodded his head. "Ok, another double and whatever he's been drinking. Thanks."

"Put them on my tab," Alcide added as the bartender walked away.

"Won't even let me buy you a drink, eh?"

"Humor me."

Grace chuckled and reached for her empty glass, swirling the remaining ice cubes around and around to pass the time. She started feeling a little floaty but still had more room to go before she was belligerent. Alcide looked up at the game again and took the last sip of his beer.

"You're not from here, are you?"

"What gave you that idea?"

"You don't have an accent."

"Well, that would do it. I moved around a lot as a kid, so can't really say I'm from anywhere. You?"

"Shreveport," he grimaced. "Which makes the fact that I'm alone here at a bar on Thanksgiving even sadder." Grace was taken aback by his honesty; she wasn't expecting that. But as the bartender returned with their drinks and Alcide took a large sip of his new beer, she realized how drunk he already was. The man wasn't completely out of hand, but he wasn't beating around the bush either. She kind of liked it. It was refreshing.

"Well," Grace offered, "I'm alone here too. So cheers to the misfits." She held out her drink and Alcide laughed and clinked his glass against hers. The pair paused to take a few sips before he continued the conversation.

"So do you live here or just passing through town?"

"I'm here temporarily for work, renting a place."

"And what do you do?"

"I'm a singer," Grace said with a smile.

"Are you now?" Alcide grinned.

"Yessir. Couldn't do anything else with my life if I tried, music moves me some type of way. What about you?"

"Construction, working in Caddo Parish."

"That would explain why you're in such good shape," Grace couldn't help but flirt.

"It would also explain why I'm drinking," Alcide grumbled into his beer. "Some advice, don't mix business with family."

"Oh I would never, can't stand my own father."

"Yeah?"

"Military man."

"Ah. Well mine's not, but he's still a piece of shit. Lives in a trailer alone and I have to deal with running his company and settling his debts." Alcide angrily downed his beer and Grace paused to drain the rest of her double.

"You like your whiskey, don't you?"

"Tends to happen when you have the blues."

"And what could a beautiful lady like yourself be blue about?"

Grace blushed initially, still a bit incredulous that someone as gorgeous as Alcide could be attracted to her. But soon, she wished she had more alcohol in front of her to answer that question; she hastily took a sip from her empty glass, hoping to find remnants of whiskey among the remaining drops of water from the melted ice. When Grace came up empty, she sighed. Daddy issues plagued her, sure, and she'd also put herself in a dangerous work environment. But Alcide's honesty combined with the substances she'd taken encouraged her to drop her walls and give him the real answer.

"Unrequited love."

Grace hated herself as soon as the words tumbled out of her mouth. She loved Eric, didn't she? His fucking smirk that lit a fire between her legs, the deep dark broken part of his soul that had called to her ever since she'd laid eyes on him the first time … She didn't care that his hands were covered in blood. Or that he was technically her principal employer and someone who could exploit her if he really knew what she could do. Fuck, was this actually her rock bottom? Loving Death itself?

"I'm sorry to hear that," Alcide said somberly.

"Not the first time." Although it was definitely the worst she'd experienced. "I'll get over it."

"Well, if it makes you feel better … I had the love of my life point a gun in my face and tell me she wants to kill me."

"Woah."

"She did it a couple of months ago and haven't seen her since." Alcide paused to take another sip of beer. "Am I stupid to still love her and see the best in her?"

Another silence hung between them; Grace didn't have an answer since she was asking herself a similar question about her feelings for Eric. The TV erupted when one of the teams scored and provided a needed distraction. Alcide looked up and took a few moments to drain the rest of his bottle.

"You want another one?" he asked.

It was then that Grace realized she didn't want to drown herself in alcohol anymore. She was technically four drinks in and that wasn't doing the job - well, it was doing a job, just not the one she wanted. No, she needed something stronger to help her forget, to knock the depressing thoughts out of her head. And Alcide seemed to be a capable partner for that since Leon wasn't doing anything.

"I'm going to head to the bathroom," Grace said casually and then dropped her voice to a sultry tone, pairing it with an inviting stare. "… You could join me if you'd like."

Alcide's eyes widened in surprise, but they quickly narrowed and looked at her hungrily. Oh yes, he would do. Grace channeled Gigi, got up from her seat with her purse in hand and swished her hips as she made her way to the back of the bar to find someplace private. The singer smirked when she heard Alcide's boots tapping against the ground, signaling he was following her. He was just as desperate and lonely as she was.

His hands cupped her breasts from behind once they rounded the dark hallway corner, out of view from the rest of the bar. Grace drew a sharp breath when Alcide forcefully turned her around to face him. She reveled in his attention as he pushed her against the wall and his lips attacked; their tongues met as he ground his hips against hers. The make-out session was drunk and sloppy but Grace didn't care. It felt really fucking satisfying to have someone attractive meeting her physical needs. She knew she needed more and broke the kiss, breathing heavily and looking around for a door to hide behind. He moved to tease the tender skin around her throat, but she slipped out of his grasp, opened a supply closet door (she was three sheets to the wind, but still wanted to do better than a public bathroom where anyone could just walk in on them) and gave him a come hither gesture. Alcide growled, swiftly pulled Grace into the back room and locked the door behind them.

The misfits resumed their earlier pleasures, this time with more frantic sucking and biting. Alcide eventually moved her over to one of the countertops, cleared the surface and roughly pulled her up to sit on top of it, which gave him perfect access to the intersection of her thighs. Grace felt desire flood her senses as he hiked up her black dress and stroked her over her thong; her chest flushed and her heart raced. She raked her acrylic nails through his hair and hooked one leg around his waist to bring him closer. She needed more. Alcide buried his face in her neck and Grace had a flashing thought of Eric's teeth against her skin instead. She felt a jolt of panic. No no, he wouldn't ruin this too. All of this was to forget him, shit, she needed to get the sense screwed out of her. She didn't love him. She hadn't known him for very long. She just needed a sexual release and then her feelings would disappear.

"Harder," she demanded between ragged breaths. "Please."

In a flash, Alcide's fingers pushed the fabric aside and drilled into her. Grace cried out with pleasure - fuck, that felt good - and reached for his belt buckle after he continued to finger her and bring her closer to the edge. Alcide grunted once she finally got it undone and reached her hand down his pants to feel his length; he was already quite hard. He threw his head back and shuddered as she started to stroke him but eventually pulled away. He reached into his pocket and Grace panted when she saw him pull a condom out of his wallet. Bingo. She hastily shimmied off her thong as he ripped the foil and put it on, unable to wait any longer. Alcide didn't ease into it; he buried himself in her entrance and thrust deeply. She cried out again as a white light flashed across the back of her eyelids.

"Harder!" Grace gasped, digging her fingers into his back. "Please!"

He thrust again with an animalistic growl and as drunk as she was, Grace swore she saw his eyes turn a different color as he shifted into a higher gear. He set the pace and delivered on her ask; she dissolved into pleasure and basked in the feeling of his hips rapidly slamming into hers. It was divine and she very openly moaned over and over to let him know how much she was enjoying it. And he clearly enjoyed it too as he grunted and kept up the rough rhythm. But their movements soon became unfocused and clumsy as both their minds dared to think about other lovers who they wished to be with instead. Yet, it ultimately didn't matter. Their arousal and adrenaline still climaxed minutes later, Grace just moments before Alcide pulsed inside her.

They took a moment to catch their breaths - heaving as Grace stared him down with dilated pupils and Alcide slowly touched the side of her face - before he pulled away and took care of the used condom. Grace felt her vision start to blur, the fuzziness of her arousal fading and revealing her underlying drunkenness. She didn't feel pleasure, she felt sour and out of control. She hopped off the counter and her stomach churned as she put her underwear back on and straightened out the rest of her look. The doubts kicked in too; what had she just done? She didn't regret choosing Alcide, he was quite possibly the most attractive man she'd ever been with. But really, wasted in the back room of a dive bar while alone on Thanksgiving? She could make better choices than that.

"I should go," she blurted out. "And before you ask, you were great. It's me, not you. Really."

"Alright," he responded, a bit hurt. He didn't hide his puppy dog eyes. "Can I at least get your number?"

Grace gave him a fake one, too embarrassed to see him again and face her regret; she'd avoid this bar too if this was a regular spot for him. The singer placed a tender kiss on his cheek, gave him a soft smile and assured him she'd call a cab since she was in no state to drive. She rushed out of the back room with her purse - trying not to stumble and fluster herself any further as she dropped some loose bills on the bar to pay for her first drink - and inhaled deeply when she reached the parking lot. The fresh air encouraged her to set herself straight, navigate her phone through her insobriety and call a cab company. But sadly, the dispatcher said it would be about thirty minutes before someone could pick her up.

Grace hung up and tried not to cry. She didn't want to take her last option on the table, but the thought of being here for another thirty minutes was too depressing. She approached the black sedan from earlier and tapped on the window. It slowly rolled down to reveal Vincenzo sitting in the driver's seat. Fuck, if he was the one tailing her tonight, this was going straight to Eric, wasn't it? God, she must have looked a mess; drunk and deshelved with swollen lips and hickies forming.

"I need you to take me home," she mumbled. "And eventually, bring my car back. I can't drive."

"Are you alright?" Vincenzo asked, looking her up and down.

"It was consensual if that's what you're asking," she growled.

He nodded without prodding further, zipped out of the car and held the door open for her. Grace tumbled into the backseat and finally let her tears fall once they were on the road back to her house. Her cries were just sniffles at first, but as she felt herself dissolve into drunkenness this time, they became heaving sobs. She didn't care if Vincenzo knew. She needed to get the sadness out before it consumed her.


Another show night, a different reflection; this time, Grace wore a black, draped Vivienne Westwood dress with a V-shaped top and asymmetrical skirt. But her hand was empty. In fact, she'd gotten rid of all the whiskey bottles in her dressing room.

Because she would be a good girl now.

Grace had been demanding that of herself ever since her visit to Dillon's Saloon. She needed to repent and atone for her sins. That meant severely cutting back on the booze, putting her head down doing whatever Louis asked her to do and being orderly and compliant. No more untamed Grace, it was time to put her away in a cage. Because she was too dangerous. She made bad decisions that led to disastrous results and wasn't allowed to drive anymore.

That also meant no more pleasure, no more love. Eric was a far off fantasy she couldn't touch anymore, Alcide just a memory. Grace felt guilty about leaving him hanging the way she did; the man had given her that good dick, that was for sure. At first, she considered figuring out how to contact him, but that would mean owning up to her mistake and she sure as hell wasn't about to do that. No, Grace would live with her pain, but in a way society deemed acceptable. Docile. The worst part was that it wasn't as excruciating as she expected. In fact, it was really quite easy to block everything out. All the artist needed to do was just wake up, eat, feed the cat, show up to practice, sing when she needed to sing, smile when she needed to smile, eat again and then sleep. Rinse and repeat. She kept going even after Louis cornered her and asked if everything was alright. She said yes, but he didn't believe her. She didn't care.

But there was one looming problem: her performance tonight. Grace would be back in the center of attention again as she returned to her old place on the stage and she wasn't sure if she could stomach it. Gigi was not a good girl; she thrived on darkness. How was Grace, just little baby Gracie, going to do it? Would the Fangtasia crowd - full of vampires and humans who craved gloom - even want to listen to her reformed temperament?

"Two minutes!" a stagehand called.

"Miss Gigi, come on now!" Ana called.

Grace's fingers shook as she reached out for the doorknob and followed the rest of the band out of the green room. She considered taking the signing bonus money and hightailing it out of Shreveport to run to San Diego and stay with her parents. She could hide with them; she could stomach her father's strict rules in silence, she would be good. But her feet acted on their own. They propelled her to the stage wing, yet her new impulse fought back, an ugly numbness spreading throughout her body and settling in her brain. Grace barely registered her surroundings as she and Louis held back for their opening numbers and the other members went to take their places in the dark.

"You alright?" Louis finally asked, his eyes scanning her appearance. While she still looked dolled up and sexy, Grace had small beads of sweat forming at her hairline.

"I'm fine," she nodded meekly. "Don't worry about me."

Louis frowned but ultimately took her word for it. Yet as soon as the lights went up and he stepped on stage to kick off his normal opening number, the house doors busted open and all hell broke loose.

"SHREVEPORT PD! HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!"


Author's note: First off, I would pay real money to see a jazz band do Weezy covers haha, I've been so excited to drop these lyrics. But woof, this was the hardest chapter to write yet. I had SO many ideas that I ended up changing (like it was initially Jason, not Alcide), but I think it turned out alright in the end. Long, but alright haha. Also, this is the first time I've ever written explicit smut, yay for me! Had to practice before the main Grace/Eric event LOL.

As for drop timing … trying to post at least once a month but shoot for more than that. We'll see as work ramps back up!

Please review, I would love to hear from you!