Remix, Chapter 13: Euphoria free porn video

A brief note and explanation: About two years ago I received a letter from my RL parents threatening my children. It was in regards to my writing of pornography on the Internet. As you can imagine, my children are the most important things in my life, not counting my wife. As a result I stopped writing completely. Considering that Remix was "borderline" porn, I didn't feel comfortable finishing it with my folks looking over my shoulder. They're still out there online and not very open about my RL sexuality or marriage situation, but that's neither here not there. Two years is FAR too long to be depressed. I WILL finish this story this time, come hell, high water, high taxes or the Bush administration. Thanks for your patience, and I hope that the quality meets everyone's expectations. (And after a two-year wait, it had BETTER, or else I'm probably going to be facing a wall of pitchforks and torches.) Remix, Chapter 13: Euphoria By Brevdravis "Can you sing?" The question caught James a bit off guard. She was not prepared for it, and so blurted out the first thought that came to mind, an old joke that she always used when people asked her that in auditions. "Only if you don't mind somebody who sounds like Frank Sinatra." It came out rehearsed, casual. Of course it was totally inappropriate, a fact that was not unnoticed by the questioner: a longhaired drummer who went by the name of Colin. "Seriously, can you sing?" He repeated the question after a brief guffaw that was shared by the other three members of the band James was auditioning for. She had replied to a note in the local student newspaper that had requested rhythm guitarists to audition. So far James had heard four other guitarists prior to her turn. Three had sucked, and the band knew it. One of them was all right but had a nasty tendency to try to steal the limelight. For her own turn, James had decided to play it casual, not trying to shine too much, but to show basic and consistent competence, with a bit of brilliance tossed in. "Reason is," Colin repeated, his eyes roaming over James' body, making her feel very exposed and uncomfortable, despite the jacket and jeans that she was wearing. Try as she might, she still had a hard time whenever any male looked at her body. "We kinda need another singer. Sherrie smokes," He nodded towards a dark haired girl who was in the process of lighting some evidence of that fact, "so she's no good. I'm no Phil Collins. " He shrugged casually, stating the fact like he simply accepted it. "Well, I'm not really..." "Look, I know that it wasn't in the audition notice, but can you just..." He let the comment hang, looking at her expectantly. James took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. She had been the choir in the past life, but it had been years. Something simple, she tried to think. Something that nobody expects you to do in an audition. She sang "Stairway to Heaven." The archetype of the cheesy guitar audition piece. She started weak, unsure, but when her voice failed to crack at the high notes like it used to in her male experience, she became more confident, finishing the final "and she's BUYING a staaaaaairway... to HEAVen..." to absolute silence. "She's in," mumbled the lead guitarist from the back; a rather overweight guy who James remembered went by the name of Mike. "Hey, uh can either of you two guys do better?" Colin turned to the remaining two guys who had shown up for the audition. One of them thought so, and proceeded to prove that he was wrong with his totally fascinating rendition of "I'm too Sexy". James hadn't realized that that song COULD be played on a guitar. As the remainder of the auditioners filed out, James glanced around the backyard in which he had been performing. Open-air auditions were a bit more difficult than a garage band audition, but then again, this wasn't a garage band. Well, they played in an attic, not a garage. So technically he figured that they were an attic band. James had heard them at a local party and had not been totally impressed. They had potential, sure, but then again every band has "Potential". Mostly they did covers of Metallica and Bon Jovi, but had added their own twist. That twist was Catalina, their Violinist. In fact Catalina had been more of a draw than almost all of the remaining members. She was a bit of a waif, who had been apparently been playing the violin since she was eight years old. She was technically proficient but not really experimental. Typical for a child prodigy. James snickered slightly at that last thought, since she fell into that category herself at sixteen. "You wanna jam a little?" Sherrie asked, picking up her bass. As she did so, James couldn't help but notice the stylized sun tattoo on the small of her back. "I mean, fuck, welcome to the Fish Slapping Dance and all that shit, but I got tired of listening to crap and I'd like to play a LITTLE today. Unless Mikey over there wants to complain that he's tired again." "I'm getting over Mono! Deal with it," Mike shot back from his chair where he cradled his guitar. "I can jam for a little bit, but I have a test Friday and need to study. You guys are just lucky that I had time to do this audition." "You've had a test every other fucking Friday for the past fucking year. Either you have the hardest fucking professors on the face of the planet or your sitting in your room pulling your..." Sherrie continued, shooting a fierce gaze from her brown eyes in Mike's direction. "HEY!" Catalina barked, pulling Sherrie's attention to her. "Can you please leave my boyfriend alone and just play?" The air in the room was getting tense, with Catalina glaring at Sherrie with murder in her pale blue eyes, Mike curling into a ball in his chair, and Colin snickering, his hands interlaced behind his head. Apparently, things in Fish Slapping Dance were not exactly hunky-dory. Unable to take any more of the tension, James decided that she would just start playing. She quickly raced through her memory trying to remember a song that she knew which included a violin part. Before she consciously thought about it, she began playing "The world I know". A basic rhythm part, but it was workable. Halfway through the initial riff, James realized that the song wasn't out yet. However, it did not seem to shake any of the other band members, who merely listened, trying to get the beat. The tension left the room as Colin nodded along with the notes, and began to match the beat that James had set. It was jamming, and as the other members of the band joined in, the tension in the room began to leave. It ended up being a pretty good jam session. About an hour long, and a nice introduction to the rest of the band. After playing along with them for a while James was able to get a good feel for their playing style. Catalina was conservative, exactly as James had pegged her at the party. However, her relationship with Mike was not something she would have expected, since Catalina, with her thin waifish form, blonde hair and pale blue eyes was nearly the polar opposite of large, dark haired Mike. Mike, well, was lazy. James hated to admit it, but that was exactly how his playing sounded, and exactly how he acted. He played lead guitar, but used riffs that James recognized from recent radio: No innovation, no style. It wasn't that he was BAD, but he wasn't the type of material that you lead a band with. However, James had played with enough of his type to know how to grit her teeth and bear it. Perhaps in a little while, after they had played together a little longer, she might offer some "friendly advice." Colin was a solid drummer, his style reminding James of Ringo Starr in his Beatles days, minus the nose. His long brown hair was nice and attractive, which James forcibly restrained herself from noticing, or tried to at any rate. With her own long hair, she thought about how nice it would be to run her fingers through... Another thought that she immediately cut off, instead focusing on Sherrie, the Bass player of the band. A bit older than the rest of the band, a senior at the school. She cursed like a sailor, wore two obvious tattoos, not counting the one on her back that James had seen, and had no qualms about giving her opinion to anyone and everyone. Technically competent, with a flair for improvisation, she was by far the best member of the band as far as being a "band member" went. If one could look past her outward spikes, it was very easy to see where much of the strength of the group lay. The jam session slowly broke up, with James being given a copy of the rehearsal schedule by Catalina, who apparently was the one responsible for such things, which made sense seeing as she was renting the house with Mike and Colin, as well as a note with the next performance. James noted absentmindedly that it was at a frat party on Halloween, opening for another college band that went by the typical college radio name of Oedipus and the Mama's Boys. Delta Tau Delta. The name of the fraternity sounded familiar, but she put it out of her mind as she collected her guitar and left the house, walking to the local bus stop. When she arrived back at the dorm, she was greeted by Mallory at the front door of her room. Mallory grinned expectantly, her face beaming at James with a look of expectation. "Did you get in? Tell me everything!" She smiled, her face lighting up. "Yeah, I got in," James smiled back, "but it's not like there was a lot of competition." "Doesn't matter! When's your first show? I gotta see it!" Mallory grinned at James, nearly squealing. Suddenly, she lunged forward and grabbed James in an embrace. It was an innocent hug, but James suddenly stiffened, her chin starting to tremble as she felt Mallory's body against her. The soft pressure of her breasts against James' own was intensely pleasurable, and James felt almost like she was melting with the feelings. She was terrified. The feelings of pleasure from this new contact was frightening, and she was unable to move, and not wanting to. The conflicting impulses ran through her mind as Mallory hugged her. Of all the things that you could say about Mallory, James knew that stupid was not one of them that you could say with any accuracy. She noted James' response, and released her pressure, taking a step back. "Maggie, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." Her eyes were soft, apologetic. James was still in shock from the contact, her eyes roaming over Mallory's figure, noting her long red hair, and having those same thoughts about running her fingers through it, that she had regarding Colin's long... The exhilaration of getting into a band, and a great jam session, combined with these new strong feelings of sexuality were almost overwhelming. James' legs felt weak, her body feeling soft all over, and ready. She softly licked her lips, realizing that she was staring, and that Mallory knew it. She breathed deeply, turning her gaze to the side. She slid the case for her guitar off her shoulder and placed it gently against the wall, not looking at Mallory. She knew exactly what had just happened, and she did not want to make Mallory any more uncomfortable than she probably already was. "Maggie, can I ask you something?" Mallory's voice was soft and nervous, >from over James' shoulder. James composed herself, to look at Mallory, who had seated herself on her bed, and was looking a James with an unreadable expression on her face. "Yeah," was James' soft response. She found herself almost unable to breath properly. No matter how deeply she breathed, she felt out of breath, like she had just run a mile. "Are you gay? I mean, it doesn't bug me if you are, but I mean, I don't think of you like that." Mallory was speaking fast, nervous. "You're my friend. I mean, we've only known each other for a little while, but I like seeing you happy. I just don't think that I..." She left off the comment, seeming unsure how to continue. James sighed, realizing that she was definitely attracted to Mallory. She wanted her in that way, but didn't want to ruin their relationship. She was still technically a virgin, since she didn't figure that her male experience counted. Hell, she was even a masturbatory virgin. The last thing that she needed to do was to use a body that she didn't have much experience with, in a way that she absolutely no experience. "I don't know." James' voice was small, and quiet. "I'm well, not very experienced with..." "Duh, you're sixteen!" Mallory's voice was suddenly a bit more confident. "I mean, sure you're taller than me, and can play the guitar like a demon, but you're still only sixteen years old. I have a boyfriend back home, so I'm not really available, okay? So, I guess no more hugs if you react that way." Those five seconds had been some of the most pleasurable of James' new life. The thought of no more contact, after such a thrilling introduction, seemed almost unthinkable. The disappointment must have shown on James' face, since Mallory continued. "I still wanna be your friend! Don't get me wrong here. We just stay friends, okay?" With that Mallory stood, and moved to the side of James, hugging her about the shoulder. The touch was still pleasant, but much less intimate than the original contact: still warm and friendly. It did not affect James in the same way, but still caused definite attraction. "Friends," James sighed. "Definitely friends. But just don't... well, in that way, you know?" She was nervous, and it definitely showed. "Check. Now, subject change, what are you wearing for your Halloween costume, since you've gotta do something cool for your first show?" --- Checking herself out in the mirror, James had to admit that Mallory had some wicked sense of style in costumes. The Wicked Witch of the West might be a bit corny, but at least the makeup was professional quality. (Of course it had been borrowed from a girl down the hall with a Drama major. One thing that James truly appreciated about Mallory was her ability to use her large network of friends.) Of course, Mallory hadn't gone with a typical look for the costume. Gone was the shapeless black dress, replaced with a pair of black jeans and t-shirt. Combined with the black snakeskin leather jacket that had been found for a steal of thirty dollars at a thrift store, the effect was that of the witch's cuter, younger sister. The black beret was nice too, James acknowledged, and combined with the rest of the costume did not look inappropriate. Yet another first for James was dying her hair jet-black. The color was definitely out of character for her, but a fun little change of pace. In her previous male life, she had never once dyed her hair. The feel of her friend's hands in her hair had been a bit of a thrill, since James had begun to accept the fact that she was attracted to Mallory. Despite that acceptance, James had also accepted that she would never take their relationship to another level. She still caught herself checking out an attractive male occasionally, but was less reluctant to drag her gaze away. She rationalized this by acknowledging the looks as what they were. Looks. She recalled checking out men occasionally as a man. Constant paranoia of mere observation would do nothing for her except make her paranoid. She had other things to worry about. Finishing up the final preparations, James left the bathroom, and proceeded to her room. Mallory was not in there, but since they were going to be meeting in the lobby later, she hadn't expected it. She also hadn't expected the small envelope with the word "For Maggie" on it. Smirking, she opened the envelope and found a small card inside. She studied it for a moment, before realizing that it was an ID card. It had her picture on it, stated that she was twenty-one, and was not obviously a fake. In addition, inside the envelope was a small note. "Maggie, We might want to do something else after your set, if the party sucks. Happy Unbirthday! Mallory." The gift took James totally by surprise. She hadn't been drinking at all during her college experience so far, for the very rational reason that it was illegal. She had never owned a fake ID in her life. Shrugging, she slipped the card into her pocket. It might come in handy at some point. With a final adjustment of her hat, James proceeded down the elevator to the lobby, lugging her Amp in both hands. Mallory, dressed as a classic sexy ,ampire, greeted her with a friendly wave, and proceeded to aid her carrying the equipment out to Mallory's car. "Thank you!" James stated, as they piled in the car. "For what?" Mallory asked, starting the engine. "The ID," James explained. "Oh, that's not for you, that's for me." Mallory grinned, showing a pair of fake fangs. "I got sick of staying away from the clubs because you couldn't go." "You coulda just gone with your other friends." James shrugged. "Yeah, but then I wouldn't be able to corrupt a poor innocent. BLEAH!" Mallory finished the final statement with a playful extension of her tongue. The effect, combined with Mallory's naturally pale skin made her look nearly demonic, as well as very attractive. They stopped at a one of the local sororities to pick up one of Mallory's friends from rush, named Beth. She was dressed as a nurse, which was a bit clich?, but then again, what was Halloween but Clich?? Finally, they arrived at the party, which was at the Delta Tau Delta house. The street was packed, with cars lining the street for blocks on either side. Eventually they parked, and Beth and Mallory helped James drag her equipment down to the house. As they arrived at the house, James was struck with a realization of exactly where they were. They were at the house. THE house. Where it had happened. Where she had been brutalized seven years ago. Seven years ago, and tonight. How could she have forgotten? James had never forgotten that date for years. She had remembered everything, and the memory had been a permanent imprint in his mind. Why had it left? Because it wasn't important, she realized. It hasn't happened yet, and it won't happen. She shook of the momentary fear that ran through her body, a chill searing the lower portions of her stomach. She would not let memories of a life that had not yet happened ruin her new life. "Maggie? You ok?" Mallory asked, looking at Maggie with concern. "I'm fine," Maggie stated, pushing the fear away. If she was going to make her life right, now was the time to make that stand. "Goose walked across my grave." There was already music playing in the backyard where the band was to set up. A large stereo was blasting out a song that Maggie remembered as the Goddamn Bee Girl song. Damn MTV videos... So far only Sherrie had arrived to set up on the small wooden stage in the back of the yard, and she greeted Maggie with a nod and a curse. Her Goth costume was less of a costume than a simple intensification of her standard method of dress, but it didn't seem inappropriate. "Fuck. They're late, again." Sherrie was pissed, and it showed on her face. "I swear to god, if Mike gives me that "studying" excuse again, I'm gonna shove a textbook down his fucking throat." "No, there they are!" Maggie pointed over at the opposite fence, where the top of Colin's face showed. Apparently they were trying to open a locked gate to the backyard. "FUCK! One second," Sherrie growled, moving over to speak to a frat boy who looked more sober than the others. He nodded as she spoke to him as he moved through the party to the gate. A few minutes later Mike, Colin and Catalina arrived on the stage. Rather, a College guy, an Immortal, and a Kitty Cat. "Where's your costume?" Maggie asked as she looked around for Mallory who had left as she set up, spotting her and Beth over by the drink counter, getting themselves refreshment. "Oh, I'm a serial killer," Mike replied brightly, "Don't you know..." "They look like everybody else..." Four people around him chimed in. "Lame Mike. Really Fucking Lame," Sherry growled, as the three latecomers began to set up. "Oh like a Goth's really original," Mike shot back, before moving off. "I'm getting a drink, anybody else want one?" "Soda for me," Maggie stated, as she scanned the crowd. Not the worst crowd, and the drinks they'd already obviously consumed were going to help their reception. She looked about and noticed one of the frat guys tapping his watch nearby. They were about ten minutes late starting already. About five minutes later they were ready. A rather drunk fraternity member walked up to the microphone, whacking it with his hand to get attention. "Hey, Kill the stereo! Dude! YEAH YOU! OFF! NOT UP, OFF! Drunk asshole..." That elicited a laugh from the costumed crowd. "Okay, I know everybody wants to hear our main band here, " he pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocked, glancing at it before continuing, "Oedipus and the Mama's Boys. " There was a small cheer from the crowd at this point. "But before that, I wanted to let you drunk bastards know that there's a new... uh... exhibit at the rock'n'roll hall of fame. It'sh called GET OFF THE STAGE" he shouted the last few words directly at Maggie and Sherrie, "A tribute to opening actsh..." The crowd roared at the last joke, drawing yet another "fuck" from Sherrie. For her part, Maggie took it in stride. It was typical for the opening act to get dissed. "Sho, without further ado," the fraternity member yelled, "Here's Fish Slapping Dance!" Maggie knew that one of the worst mistakes a band can make at this point is to assure the audience that they were in fact going to do a good set. The audience doesn't show up to hear you whine, and with the final word of the band name she immediately began the opening riff of "Highway to Hell". It was a good song, high energy, and with that intro, they needed something to grab the audience fast. Well, usually it was. If Mike hadn't sleepwalked through his part, they could have really made an impression. However, on the chorus of "Highway to HELL" he mumbled along. His guitar work was identical to the original. She could have just grabbed the guitar track from the album and it would have been as useful. At least the other members of the band did their best. AC/DC with the addition of a violin had an interesting sound. The applause that followed was subdued but present. It could have been so much better, and Maggie knew it. She had been singing, playing, and trying to work the audience. If he had just... "Mike," she said, covering the microphone with her hand, "Can you wake up and FUCKING PLAY!" "Chill out, oh Vicked Vitch of Da Vest." Mike raised his hands, pointing to the audience. "You think these drunks care about how good we play?" Catalina broke in, ready to defend her boyfriend. "Can we just get back to the songs? How bout that new one you were playing?" Maggie groaned internally. She had stupidly played an older song from her previous life at rehearsal, not realizing that it wasn't out yet. All of the other members had loved it, insisting that she teach it to them. It was a simple tune, but fun and easy to play. With a silent apology to Tom Petty she began to play "Mary Jane's Last Dance". Never mind the fact that the song was a bit slower than a second song should be. Never mind that the song was written by a man singing about a woman. At least Mike couldn't screw this one up, since the guitar part wasn't put on tape yet, so he had nothing to copy from. Of course he simply did a copy of the lame guitar work that he had done in his rehearsals, but at least it was something that Maggie could cover for. The audience reaction was initially typical for an "original" song: bored indifference. The crowd's mood remained at that level, until Maggie hit the line about a girl and a party dress. That got several of the frat boys hooting with obvious glee at the thought. It at least got more attention. Finally finishing the song up, she noted that quite a bit more of the audience was paying attention. Catalina seemed less defensive after the crowd's acclaim. The rest of the band was also happy with the response to an "Original" piece. For her own part, Maggie felt like shit. She didn't want to be stealing other people's music to get noticed, but the error was simply that. The set continued. The band's usual pattern was to do a cover, then an original, then two more covers, then an original. Since they only had an eleven song set, which resulted in four originals. The ended up doing two Metallica covers next, safe and dull ground, before doing Mike and Catalina's incredibly sappy love duet. That original nearly lost them the audience, so they followed up with a couple of recent pop tune covers, which won the audience back. Maggie was rapidly becoming uncomfortable under the makeup, trying to give the best performance that she could. She only had four songs to go, but she noted that Mike was screwing around again. He'd been supplied with beers by one of the frat members, and had been drinking them between every song. For her own part, Maggie hadn't touched the soda in the plastic cup yet. She wished that she could wipe her brow but knew it would screw up Mallory's hard work. She had caught glimpses of Mallory during the performance and saw that she was enjoying it. "Hey, Maggie." Sherrie elbowed Maggie as their seventh song ended. "Let Mike sit out on this next one. You got anything you can do?" Maggie immediately thought of a song. She couldn't remember if it was out or not. At this point, she didn't care. With Mike drinking his beer, she immediately moved back to Colin, informing him of the rhythm. He shrugged, but began the simple tempo. She looked over at Mike, motioning him to sit down. He shrugged in response. Listening to the beat, Maggie slowly strummed her guitar in the first three chords of the song. "I hate the world today..." Maggie began. She put herself into it, giving an extremely powerful rendition of Meredith Brook's "Bitch". She took it a step further as well, instead of a basic guitar solo, like in the original; she stretched it out, using every skill that she had learned in her life, both previous and present. She moved, crossing the stage whenever she wasn't singing, and playing to the crowd. Sherrie's backup on the bass was perfect, not identical to the original, but in time, and in tempo. The response from the crowd was phenomenal. It started small, but continued to get louder and more enthusiastic as the song went on. The response was not to the music so much as it was a response to Maggie's playing, and the energy that she gave off. She knew it, and could feel it. It had only happened once before in her previous life. The fear and pressure of performance giving way to a glowing internal feeling that just hungered to give out as much as possible. It was the closest thing to heaven Maggie had ever experienced in her life as James, and it had happened at one performance before. It was here again. The song finished to a rousing round of applause. Maggie basked in the feeling for a moment longer, before turning back to look at the rest of the band. There was a broad smile on every one of their faces. Well, almost every one. She couldn't see Mike's face, since he was drinking another beer. "Fuck yeah!" Sherrie glowed, raising her hand for a high five, which Maggie easily completed. Catalina had even joined in during the song, giving a bit of a different feel than memory had served. "Whatever, can I play again, Oh Vicked Vitch?" Mike slurred the sentence, standing up to take his place at the front of the stage. For an instant, he seemed ready to elbow Maggie out of the way, but thought better of it. "I don't know, CAN you?" Maggie shot off, before turning back to the audience. "You know that costume is really appropriate, witch, but you know, I'm the guitar wizard around here." Mike puffed up, beginning the first notes of one of Eddie Van Halen's guitar solos. The crowd got into the song, but during it Mike was clearly trying to outshine Maggie's performance, playing much more proficiently than he had previously shown. Maggie realized that Mike wasn't trying to just outshine her; he was trying to win over the audience. In essence, Mike had turned this into a contest. They finished up the cover, Mike beaming at Maggie with a snicker. He clearly thought that he had shown her a thing or two. For her own part Maggie couldn't resist the challenge. The crowd was warming up to the rivalry being shown on the stage, many of the fraternity members cheering for him, while an equal number cheered for Maggie. For a moment, Maggie felt James' presence, strong in her mind. She could almost hear her old male voice whisper, "Kick his ass". Caught up in the moment, Maggie raised her fist up to her cheek, smiled sweetly at Mike, and extended her middle finger. The crowd loved it, and Maggie turned to begin a new song. She didn't even bother informing the other members of the band what it was. Fortunately the song began with an extended guitar solo, so the others would have to catch up. "Cliffs of Dover" by Eric Johnson. It was hard, a very hard piece to do right. Almost anybody could get the notes right, but to complete it properly required timing, as well as a hell of a lot of sheer talent. Slowly, the remainder of the band managed to catch the beat and chime in. Maggie, for her part, hit every note perfectly. The song went on, before she finished it with an extended vibratio, looking at Mike with the same sweet smile. "Just call me the guitar witch, then." Maggie stated, close enough to the microphone that it echoed across the small backyard. The party had turned into nearly a concert, with more people paying attention to the stage than to each other. The remainder of the band was somewhat silent. Atypically, Catalina was not immediately jumping to her boyfriend's defense, while Colin and Sherrie looked on with sheer amusement. It was obvious that this was the culmination of a long series of events among the other four members of the band. Mike stared at Maggie, an expression of pure rage on his face. A moment too late, Maggie realized that to Mike's mind, she had challenged his manhood. Not only that, but it was obvious to everyone at the party that she was better than he was. He had lost the challenge, big time. "Fuck this shit. Fish Slapping Dance is MY band, so you get the fuck out, you litta primadonna witch." The words had a venom to them that Maggie had not expected. She was tired, the adrenaline of the performance rapidly leaving her body. She realized that she had just got herself kicked out of a band. It was Mike that had made the decision to let her in, and apparently he was the one who made the decision to kick her out. A tear wanted to form at her eye, but she fought it back, merely moving off the stage, while more than a few catcalls were tossed at the band in general and Mike in particular. For a moment, Sherrie seemed about to say something, before turning back and beginning to play as Mike started the next song. Fish Slapping Dance finished as Maggie pulled her equipment off the stage. "What happened?" Mallory asked as she and Beth raced up to Maggie, helping her drag the equipment back to the car. "Mike and I had a pissing contest. I won." The last vestiges of euphoria were gone now, as Mallory locked the car. From the backyard of the party, they could hear the sounds of the main act being introduced to a somewhat smaller cheer than Maggie would have expected for an opening act. "That's bullshit. You give one of the best performances I've ever heard and he kicks you out of the band?" Mallory sighed. "Look, do you want to go home, or do you want to give the party a shot? It's really just getting started." Maggie looked up, tracing the light of the stars that were visible. She wanted to crawl into a hole and die. They loved the show, she realized, smiling softly. The pain of rejection was still there, but the feeling of euphoria was present, and stronger. "Party. " she smiled at her friend, "Hell yeah, definitely time for a party."