Succubus
The Dusk
The first show of the tour was at a small outoor venue in Bangor, not far down the street from the local college. Somehow the sun seemed to set a little quicker than usual as the concertgoers filed into place and chatted the blurred nonsense speech of a crowd. At straight up 7:30, the sunset was complete and My Chem watched as Dazi Li took the stage.
"Howl for me, Maine," she sneered into the mic, just as she had when they saw her in Jersey. The audience all too willingly threw their heads back and bayed at the new moon, earning them Miss Li's now imfamous sharptoothed grin. "You good people can pick up my album on New Kid Records over at the merch tent, but I get the very distinct feeling that you can already sing along. Let's find out, shall we?" A great gutteral scream broke through the crowd as Jay hit the first chords of "Your Nightmare", and somehow, inexplicably, they knew the lyrics.
Mikey's eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he observed the phenomenon. "How the fuck does she DO IT?" he whispered excitedly. "Her disc is practically impossible to find, and she's got kids singing along!"
"They CAN'T have found them online, I doublechecked," Frankie mumbled, his brows furrowed in confusion. "And besides, the bill's only been finalized for like two days, they wouldn't have had time to track them down anyway."
"THIS...is some freaky shit," Bob said with a nod, mostly to himself.
Ray sighed in slight despair. "I hate to admit it, but I'm almost afraid to have to follow her. She's just too GOOD to be an opener."
With narrowed eyes and a stiff frown, Gerard turned to his friends. "Guys, we plucked her from a dive bar in Lodi. Hate to seem cocky, but let's try not to forget who WE are. And who is that? My Chemical fucking Romance, that's who, i.e. the headliners of this tour. C'mon, let's go get ready." And with that, he herded them towards the backstage dressing rooms.
"Your Nightmare" had reached its end, and Dazi cackled at the cheering crowd. "Calm down, kiddies, save some of your energy for the main attraction," she crooned into the microphone, quieting the congregation slightly. "Those boys in My Chemical Romance, they're something, huh? Especially that Bobby Bryar." As if on cue, the fans chuckled in unison. "I'm thinking about paying him a little visit tonight myself..."
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My Chem, exhausted from their barely successful efforts at topping Dazi Li, trudged through the parking lot towards their bus, feet kicking up loose gravel as they were dragged across the ground.
"I call shotgun on the shower," Frankie murmered, feeling even achier than usual.
"You ALWAYS call shotgun, you little clean freak," Mikey wheezed. He'd had to resist the temptation to go for his inhaler mid-show.
Bob swerved from their path and stretched himself out across the top of a nearby picnic table. "I always end up last anyway, everyone go right on ahead," he mumbled, eyes slipping shut...
He snapped back to attention suddenly when he heard a rustling nearby. Sitting up with some difficulty from the soreness in his arms, Bob cast a quick calculating look around the parking lot. Something, did NOT feel quite right...
"Your band is quite passionate about what they do..." Bob snapped his head back towards the bus, where Dazi Li was leaning against it when she hadn't been before. She'd changed out of her stage gear, now clad in a white sleeveless hoodie and a short, tight skirt. There was a video camera clutched in her right hand, pointed at where he was sitting.
"Please...turn that off," Bob said with quiet intensity, feeling that slow-burning anger building at the back of his skull like he always did in front of the camera.
Dazi flicked her eyes up from its viewscreen and smirked. "C'mon, sugar, it's not gonna steal your soul or anything." She took soft, barefooted steps towards him. "I'm just taping bits and pieces of the tour for posterity."
Bob swallowed and turned away. "Well, I don't like being on film, so it would be greatly appreciated if you'd stop. The others are just inside; Frankie's most likely running around half-dressed..."
A giggle escaped her lips. "I'm sure he is. I've been following the band for quite some time. My, my...I've been there since nearly the beginning...when MATT was the drummer..."
Some emotion he couldn't quite place surged through Bob suddenly, straightening his posture. He turned his head back towards her, and she flashed him that unnerving smile of hers, flicking her tongue around those razor-like teeth to glide across her red lips.
"It's a sore subject for you, isn't it?" Dazi whispered, fire burning in her gaze. Her free hand raised itself up to her chest, teasing at her nipples, visibly hardened beneath her shirt. "You don't like to think about the situation with Matt. He was one of the founding members after all.
"And what happened to him?" The hand slid up to the zipper of the hoodie, sliding it down with brutal precision, revealing her small pale breasts to the night air. "He was tossed aside like a broken guitar string. That's why you don't like being on camera..." She reached out now for him, taking hold of his right hand in her vice-like grip and bringing it towards her to caress her swollen peaks.
"You're afraid of getting used to it. The fame. The pageantry. Because you know that if they could get rid of one of their oldest friends..." Dazi leaned her mouth in towards his ear. "...they could do it to you, too..."
A slight gasp escaped his lips as Bob awakened, face down on the picnic table still. He sat up and looked around for her, but there was nothing but the darkness. It had been a dream. One that left him semi-erect, he was disturbed to notice, but a dream nonetheless.
The bus door opened and Ray popped his head out, hair deflated from his shower. "Hey, man, it's your turn," he smiled. "You coming in or what?"
"Yeah...yeah, in a second," Bob nodded, trying to get a better grip on himself.
Ray's expression lowered. "You OK, Bob?"
Bob slid off the table and headed for the bus. "Yeah...just trying to shake off sleep..."
"Howl for me, Maine," she sneered into the mic, just as she had when they saw her in Jersey. The audience all too willingly threw their heads back and bayed at the new moon, earning them Miss Li's now imfamous sharptoothed grin. "You good people can pick up my album on New Kid Records over at the merch tent, but I get the very distinct feeling that you can already sing along. Let's find out, shall we?" A great gutteral scream broke through the crowd as Jay hit the first chords of "Your Nightmare", and somehow, inexplicably, they knew the lyrics.
Mikey's eyes widened and his jaw dropped as he observed the phenomenon. "How the fuck does she DO IT?" he whispered excitedly. "Her disc is practically impossible to find, and she's got kids singing along!"
"They CAN'T have found them online, I doublechecked," Frankie mumbled, his brows furrowed in confusion. "And besides, the bill's only been finalized for like two days, they wouldn't have had time to track them down anyway."
"THIS...is some freaky shit," Bob said with a nod, mostly to himself.
Ray sighed in slight despair. "I hate to admit it, but I'm almost afraid to have to follow her. She's just too GOOD to be an opener."
With narrowed eyes and a stiff frown, Gerard turned to his friends. "Guys, we plucked her from a dive bar in Lodi. Hate to seem cocky, but let's try not to forget who WE are. And who is that? My Chemical fucking Romance, that's who, i.e. the headliners of this tour. C'mon, let's go get ready." And with that, he herded them towards the backstage dressing rooms.
"Your Nightmare" had reached its end, and Dazi cackled at the cheering crowd. "Calm down, kiddies, save some of your energy for the main attraction," she crooned into the microphone, quieting the congregation slightly. "Those boys in My Chemical Romance, they're something, huh? Especially that Bobby Bryar." As if on cue, the fans chuckled in unison. "I'm thinking about paying him a little visit tonight myself..."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My Chem, exhausted from their barely successful efforts at topping Dazi Li, trudged through the parking lot towards their bus, feet kicking up loose gravel as they were dragged across the ground.
"I call shotgun on the shower," Frankie murmered, feeling even achier than usual.
"You ALWAYS call shotgun, you little clean freak," Mikey wheezed. He'd had to resist the temptation to go for his inhaler mid-show.
Bob swerved from their path and stretched himself out across the top of a nearby picnic table. "I always end up last anyway, everyone go right on ahead," he mumbled, eyes slipping shut...
He snapped back to attention suddenly when he heard a rustling nearby. Sitting up with some difficulty from the soreness in his arms, Bob cast a quick calculating look around the parking lot. Something, did NOT feel quite right...
"Your band is quite passionate about what they do..." Bob snapped his head back towards the bus, where Dazi Li was leaning against it when she hadn't been before. She'd changed out of her stage gear, now clad in a white sleeveless hoodie and a short, tight skirt. There was a video camera clutched in her right hand, pointed at where he was sitting.
"Please...turn that off," Bob said with quiet intensity, feeling that slow-burning anger building at the back of his skull like he always did in front of the camera.
Dazi flicked her eyes up from its viewscreen and smirked. "C'mon, sugar, it's not gonna steal your soul or anything." She took soft, barefooted steps towards him. "I'm just taping bits and pieces of the tour for posterity."
Bob swallowed and turned away. "Well, I don't like being on film, so it would be greatly appreciated if you'd stop. The others are just inside; Frankie's most likely running around half-dressed..."
A giggle escaped her lips. "I'm sure he is. I've been following the band for quite some time. My, my...I've been there since nearly the beginning...when MATT was the drummer..."
Some emotion he couldn't quite place surged through Bob suddenly, straightening his posture. He turned his head back towards her, and she flashed him that unnerving smile of hers, flicking her tongue around those razor-like teeth to glide across her red lips.
"It's a sore subject for you, isn't it?" Dazi whispered, fire burning in her gaze. Her free hand raised itself up to her chest, teasing at her nipples, visibly hardened beneath her shirt. "You don't like to think about the situation with Matt. He was one of the founding members after all.
"And what happened to him?" The hand slid up to the zipper of the hoodie, sliding it down with brutal precision, revealing her small pale breasts to the night air. "He was tossed aside like a broken guitar string. That's why you don't like being on camera..." She reached out now for him, taking hold of his right hand in her vice-like grip and bringing it towards her to caress her swollen peaks.
"You're afraid of getting used to it. The fame. The pageantry. Because you know that if they could get rid of one of their oldest friends..." Dazi leaned her mouth in towards his ear. "...they could do it to you, too..."
A slight gasp escaped his lips as Bob awakened, face down on the picnic table still. He sat up and looked around for her, but there was nothing but the darkness. It had been a dream. One that left him semi-erect, he was disturbed to notice, but a dream nonetheless.
The bus door opened and Ray popped his head out, hair deflated from his shower. "Hey, man, it's your turn," he smiled. "You coming in or what?"
"Yeah...yeah, in a second," Bob nodded, trying to get a better grip on himself.
Ray's expression lowered. "You OK, Bob?"
Bob slid off the table and headed for the bus. "Yeah...just trying to shake off sleep..."