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"Welcome to the Blue Caravan Show House, everybody!" An applause erupted from the crowd of people in the small building. Backstage, you and your band - (Insert Band Name Here) - were getting ready for your performance. Your bass guitarist Arthur was fiddling with the strings of his bass nervously. The drummer, Alfred, was throwing his drumsticks in the air and catching them, smiling excitedly. Then there was your lead guitarist, Francis. He was tuning and retuning his guitar, and plugging and unplugging it in the amplifier. You were ready to take it and smash it. It was your first concert of your premier tour with your band, and you weren't going to let your band mates mess it up.
"Okay guys, huddle in. And Francis, shut the fuck up with your amp. You're unbalancing my chakras." You joked, giving him a dirty look. He rolled his eyes, and then he, Arthur, and Alfred came up to you and you huddled.
"Alright, we've worked really hard to get here. So none of you douche bags fuck it up or I'm gonna personally bash your faces in with your instruments; you included, Alfred. Trust me, I will find a way to murder you with a cymbal." Alfred's eyes widened behind his glasses, and you let loose a laugh before putting your hand in the middle of your huddle.
"We can do this, guys. Remember why we're here." You said, before pulling your hand out and walking out onto the stage. Your (h/c) hair swished behind you with streaks of (f/c) on certain strands. Your combat boots made scuffing noises on the ground, and the lights blinded your eyes; your ears deafened by the sound of applause.
You grabbed the microphone off the stand, a large smile on your face, "How's everybody doing tonight?"
Your shouts were met with applause from the crowd, and your smile widened, "Are you all ready to shake your ass to the music?"
More applause, and this time you laughed. Your band walked out, and more cheers bubbled up. You looked down in the crowd, and saw a man with strawberry-blonde hair and light indigo eyes. He was wearing sunglasses even though there was virtually no light on the floor, and his leather jacket was ripped and torn. He was definitely attractive.
Shaking your head quickly, you smiled at the crowd once more, before pointing to your band. The instrumental of the song you were playing started; soft guitar.
"Weep for yourself, my man,
You'll never be what is in your heart
Weep Little Lion Man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start
Rate yourself and rake yourself,
Take all of the courage you have left
Wasted on fixing all the problems
That you made in your own head."
You went and stood next to Arthur, leaning on shoulder.
"But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?
Didn't I, my. . ."
Drums and guitar came in loudly, and applause erupted once more from the crowd. You were feeling exhilarated to the maximum already. Performing always gave you a rush.
"Tremble for yourself, my man,
You know that you have seen this all before
Tremble Little Lion Man,
You'll never settle any of your scores
Your grace is wasted in your face,
Your boldness stands alone among the wreck
Now learn from your mother or else
Spend your days biting your own neck."
You began to jump around the stage, holding back excited laughter as you sang.
"But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?"
You slowed down a little bit, staring out at the crowd as you sang the chorus twice and let yourself catch your breath.
"Didn't I, my dear?"
The music sped up again, and you went for the longest note in the song.
"Ahhhhh. . ."
You held it, before breaking once more into the chorus.
"But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?
But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?"
You flipped your hair, and then sang the last line.
"Didn't I, my dear?"
The loudest applause you'd ever heard erupted from the crowd, and you turned to your band mates, chest heaving, and started laughing. You ran to Francis and jumped on him, laughing. He laughed as well, and spun you around. You then jumped from his arms and ran to hug Arthur and Alfred, who were both laughing just as much as you.
The host came out again, and you passed him the microphone with a smile. He smiled back, and then turned to the crowd.
"That was quite a performance, wasn't it? Thank you, (Insert Band Name Here), for performing for us tonight."
You shook your head as if to say 'no problem,' and then you ran back stage. When you got back there, you took a large swig of water, and then put some in your hand to run it through your hair. You were sweating, and laughing, and crying little tears of joy. Your band mates emerged and you pulled them in once more for a group hug.
"That was amazing, guys. You all did so well oh my god." You murmured into their shoulders. They all laughed, and then pulled away. Arthur and Francis had taken off their shirts to cool down, and Alfred had his unbuttoned and his bandana was off of his head and he was using it to wipe the sweat from his face.
"I'm gonna go get some fresh air. I don't exactly have the freedom to take off my shirt like you guys. I'll meet you back in the bus." You laughed airily, and then walked outside the back entrance.
"That was a banging performance." A voice made you jump, and you looked to see who it was. It was the man you had seen just before your performance. He had a cigarette in between his index and middle finger, and he was blowing out a puff of smoke as he spoke to you.
"Oh. Umm, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You asked, running a hand through your hair. He smirked, "Mathew Williams. And you're (f/n) (l/n), if I'm not mistaken."
You nodded, leaning on a wall and taking a cigarette from your pocket and lighting it.
"Y'know, smoking's gonna wreck your voice." Mathew said, raising an eyebrow skeptically at you. You shrugged, "I'll quit when I wanna quit."
He nodded, "Alright. But when your band loses their career because you wanted to smoke a cigarette, don't come crying to me."
"Trust me," you retorted venomously, "I won't come crying to you, Mr. Mathew Williams." To emphasize your point, you blew a large puff of smoke into his face, fogging up his sunglasses which he still had on. He shot you a dirty glare, before dropping his cigarette to the ground and snuffing it out with the toe of his right shoe. The little flame at the tip went out, and then the cigarette was nothing more than a pile of ash on the sidewalk.
"Until we meet again, Miss (f/n) (l/n). And trust me, we will." The man then walked down the alley, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He disappeared into the dark night, leaving you alone.
You walked with a confused expression on your face to your tour bus, which was down at the opposite side of the alley. You opened the door, and stepped in. You changed into some sweats and a baggy sweater, before sitting down at your laptop and logging onto twitter.
'@(Your twitter name): Met a weird guy today @ Blue Caravan...' you typed, before shutting your laptop and putting it in a drawer. You heard the door open, and your band mates walked in, laughing boisterously.
"Hey, you in here (nickname)?" Alfred called. You shouted a quick, "Yeah. I'm back here," and then the boys were all in your tiny room. You groaned, "What do you guys want?"
"We saw you with a guy in the alley," Arthur said with a smirk, "Who was he?"
"Oh my God, guys," You said, flopping down on your bed, "He's just a guy that was at the concert. He's a total douche anyways."
Francis shot you a wink, "Right," before walking out of the room, bickering with Arthur and Alfred. You sighed, and stared at the ceiling.
'What did he mean by 'we'll meet again'?'
"Okay guys, huddle in. And Francis, shut the fuck up with your amp. You're unbalancing my chakras." You joked, giving him a dirty look. He rolled his eyes, and then he, Arthur, and Alfred came up to you and you huddled.
"Alright, we've worked really hard to get here. So none of you douche bags fuck it up or I'm gonna personally bash your faces in with your instruments; you included, Alfred. Trust me, I will find a way to murder you with a cymbal." Alfred's eyes widened behind his glasses, and you let loose a laugh before putting your hand in the middle of your huddle.
"We can do this, guys. Remember why we're here." You said, before pulling your hand out and walking out onto the stage. Your (h/c) hair swished behind you with streaks of (f/c) on certain strands. Your combat boots made scuffing noises on the ground, and the lights blinded your eyes; your ears deafened by the sound of applause.
You grabbed the microphone off the stand, a large smile on your face, "How's everybody doing tonight?"
Your shouts were met with applause from the crowd, and your smile widened, "Are you all ready to shake your ass to the music?"
More applause, and this time you laughed. Your band walked out, and more cheers bubbled up. You looked down in the crowd, and saw a man with strawberry-blonde hair and light indigo eyes. He was wearing sunglasses even though there was virtually no light on the floor, and his leather jacket was ripped and torn. He was definitely attractive.
Shaking your head quickly, you smiled at the crowd once more, before pointing to your band. The instrumental of the song you were playing started; soft guitar.
"Weep for yourself, my man,
You'll never be what is in your heart
Weep Little Lion Man,
You're not as brave as you were at the start
Rate yourself and rake yourself,
Take all of the courage you have left
Wasted on fixing all the problems
That you made in your own head."
You went and stood next to Arthur, leaning on shoulder.
"But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?
Didn't I, my. . ."
Drums and guitar came in loudly, and applause erupted once more from the crowd. You were feeling exhilarated to the maximum already. Performing always gave you a rush.
"Tremble for yourself, my man,
You know that you have seen this all before
Tremble Little Lion Man,
You'll never settle any of your scores
Your grace is wasted in your face,
Your boldness stands alone among the wreck
Now learn from your mother or else
Spend your days biting your own neck."
You began to jump around the stage, holding back excited laughter as you sang.
"But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?"
You slowed down a little bit, staring out at the crowd as you sang the chorus twice and let yourself catch your breath.
"Didn't I, my dear?"
The music sped up again, and you went for the longest note in the song.
"Ahhhhh. . ."
You held it, before breaking once more into the chorus.
"But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?
But it was not your fault but mine
And it was your heart on the line
I really fucked it up this time
Didn't I, my dear?"
You flipped your hair, and then sang the last line.
"Didn't I, my dear?"
The loudest applause you'd ever heard erupted from the crowd, and you turned to your band mates, chest heaving, and started laughing. You ran to Francis and jumped on him, laughing. He laughed as well, and spun you around. You then jumped from his arms and ran to hug Arthur and Alfred, who were both laughing just as much as you.
The host came out again, and you passed him the microphone with a smile. He smiled back, and then turned to the crowd.
"That was quite a performance, wasn't it? Thank you, (Insert Band Name Here), for performing for us tonight."
You shook your head as if to say 'no problem,' and then you ran back stage. When you got back there, you took a large swig of water, and then put some in your hand to run it through your hair. You were sweating, and laughing, and crying little tears of joy. Your band mates emerged and you pulled them in once more for a group hug.
"That was amazing, guys. You all did so well oh my god." You murmured into their shoulders. They all laughed, and then pulled away. Arthur and Francis had taken off their shirts to cool down, and Alfred had his unbuttoned and his bandana was off of his head and he was using it to wipe the sweat from his face.
"I'm gonna go get some fresh air. I don't exactly have the freedom to take off my shirt like you guys. I'll meet you back in the bus." You laughed airily, and then walked outside the back entrance.
"That was a banging performance." A voice made you jump, and you looked to see who it was. It was the man you had seen just before your performance. He had a cigarette in between his index and middle finger, and he was blowing out a puff of smoke as he spoke to you.
"Oh. Umm, thanks? Who are you exactly?" You asked, running a hand through your hair. He smirked, "Mathew Williams. And you're (f/n) (l/n), if I'm not mistaken."
You nodded, leaning on a wall and taking a cigarette from your pocket and lighting it.
"Y'know, smoking's gonna wreck your voice." Mathew said, raising an eyebrow skeptically at you. You shrugged, "I'll quit when I wanna quit."
He nodded, "Alright. But when your band loses their career because you wanted to smoke a cigarette, don't come crying to me."
"Trust me," you retorted venomously, "I won't come crying to you, Mr. Mathew Williams." To emphasize your point, you blew a large puff of smoke into his face, fogging up his sunglasses which he still had on. He shot you a dirty glare, before dropping his cigarette to the ground and snuffing it out with the toe of his right shoe. The little flame at the tip went out, and then the cigarette was nothing more than a pile of ash on the sidewalk.
"Until we meet again, Miss (f/n) (l/n). And trust me, we will." The man then walked down the alley, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He disappeared into the dark night, leaving you alone.
You walked with a confused expression on your face to your tour bus, which was down at the opposite side of the alley. You opened the door, and stepped in. You changed into some sweats and a baggy sweater, before sitting down at your laptop and logging onto twitter.
'@(Your twitter name): Met a weird guy today @ Blue Caravan...' you typed, before shutting your laptop and putting it in a drawer. You heard the door open, and your band mates walked in, laughing boisterously.
"Hey, you in here (nickname)?" Alfred called. You shouted a quick, "Yeah. I'm back here," and then the boys were all in your tiny room. You groaned, "What do you guys want?"
"We saw you with a guy in the alley," Arthur said with a smirk, "Who was he?"
"Oh my God, guys," You said, flopping down on your bed, "He's just a guy that was at the concert. He's a total douche anyways."
Francis shot you a wink, "Right," before walking out of the room, bickering with Arthur and Alfred. You sighed, and stared at the ceiling.
'What did he mean by 'we'll meet again'?'
[[The song I used was Little Lion Man by Mumford and Sons in the style of Tonight Alive]]
I hope you liked this! It took about an hour and a half to write XD
Song (c) - Mumford and Sons
Writing (c) - Me :3
You (c) - Yourself, currently ;D
Hetalia (c) -
Part 1 -
Part 2 - Not written yet
I hope you liked this! It took about an hour and a half to write XD
Song (c) - Mumford and Sons
Writing (c) - Me :3
You (c) - Yourself, currently ;D
Hetalia (c) -
Part 1 -
Part 2 - Not written yet
© 2013 - 2024 Bexie-FlyMeToTheMoon
Comments10
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Loved it ^_^