03-25-2020, 05:32 AM
“I want your stupid love, love!” Siobhan sang back up vocals to Aiden’s righteous rendition of GaGa’s hit single. She wailed on the bass as if her very life depended on it. In a way, it did. Her solo career seemed to be going well enough, but there had been quite a bit of backlash with her most recent album. The theme had been nuclear war and critics had lauded her as an insensitive artist, ignorant of the tragedies of the past and the threats of the future. It was all a crock of bull.
Album and ticket sales tanked. She would have been just as fine falling into obscurity, but then Aiden came out of the woodwork, pleading for a Blarney Stoned reunion. She could hardly say no to that face. If she did, Ebony would certainly have a fit. The wolf loved Aiden beyond reason. It was strange and inexplicable, if only because Aiden was not wolf born and could not talk to her in the way that Siobhan could.
“He gets me,” Eb sent out, telepathically, somewhere backstage.
“I was thinking. I wasn’t talking to you,” Siobhan sent back through that odd connection they held. The song went on and the (mostly) naked male dancers appeared behind them. Siobhan loved that bit. She had slept with a few of the dancers (three at once the previous night,) and two of the female roadies that had turned up before they even got on to the road. There were certain perks that came with being a rock star instead of a pop star. The last few years were fun, but the clean image was not.
Siobhan riffed all the harder on her bass guitar.
“Get ready, guys,” Siobhan sent out to her wolf pack.
“We come,” they sent back, which was nonsense since they were just backstage, behind the curtains.
The song launched into its final chorus and the wolves came running out on stage, weaving between the dancers. A handful of them did backflips and the rest wove about the dancers’ legs, acting out some primal dance.
“I want just to be loved, loved!” Siobhan bellowed into the microphone as the entire band jammed out, completely in synch, synergy rising amongst them.
This was living.
Album and ticket sales tanked. She would have been just as fine falling into obscurity, but then Aiden came out of the woodwork, pleading for a Blarney Stoned reunion. She could hardly say no to that face. If she did, Ebony would certainly have a fit. The wolf loved Aiden beyond reason. It was strange and inexplicable, if only because Aiden was not wolf born and could not talk to her in the way that Siobhan could.
“He gets me,” Eb sent out, telepathically, somewhere backstage.
“I was thinking. I wasn’t talking to you,” Siobhan sent back through that odd connection they held. The song went on and the (mostly) naked male dancers appeared behind them. Siobhan loved that bit. She had slept with a few of the dancers (three at once the previous night,) and two of the female roadies that had turned up before they even got on to the road. There were certain perks that came with being a rock star instead of a pop star. The last few years were fun, but the clean image was not.
Siobhan riffed all the harder on her bass guitar.
“Get ready, guys,” Siobhan sent out to her wolf pack.
“We come,” they sent back, which was nonsense since they were just backstage, behind the curtains.
The song launched into its final chorus and the wolves came running out on stage, weaving between the dancers. A handful of them did backflips and the rest wove about the dancers’ legs, acting out some primal dance.
“I want just to be loved, loved!” Siobhan bellowed into the microphone as the entire band jammed out, completely in synch, synergy rising amongst them.
This was living.