Legion Of Rockstars

Once the ceremony reached its conclusion and Joan said her closing speech—basically wishing us all good luck in the Legion—round tables draped in black tablecloths appeared, and everyone moved their chair to sit at a round table, leaving a large open space that I took to be the dance floor. Apparently, after the ceremony, tradition was that there would be a kick-ass party afterwards where everyone would get drunk off their asses and end up having a one-night-stand with a member of the opposite sex, something rockstars are wont to do. Several people set up large speakers on the stage, and a DJ rolled his equipment into the center of it as a huge disco ball dropped down out of the ceiling. All of the lights flickered off, and the disco ball turned on, becoming the only light in the room, except the lights behind the bar where a bartender stood waiting to get mobbed by rockstars demanding alcohol.

As I sat in my chair watching the people set up their speakers, a pair of hands dropped down onto my bare shoulders. I jumped and swore, spinning around in my chair to see my father standing behind me, grinning to beat the band. I launched to my feet and quickly hugged him. I hadn’t seen him in what felt like forever, and I’d been so engrossed in training that I hadn’t called him for several weeks.

“Congratulations, Ash,” Dad murmured into my ear before pulling away. I smiled and thanked him. “And good God Ash, cover those puppies up.” He motioned vaguely towards my chest, shielding his eyes with his other hand.

“I’m a grown woman, Daddy,” I protested. “I can wear whatever the hell I want.”

Dad sighed. “But an old man worries. Here.” He pulled the scarves from the microphone out of his pocket and wrapped them around my neck, positioning the silky material so that it spread across my chest and covered what little cleavage my dress flaunted.

“Daddy,” I whined with a roll of my eyes, moving the scarves to reveal the curves they hid again. “Grown woman here, and you are suffocating me.”

“I just don’t want to see you broken-hearted after a night of phenomenal sex that you mistake for love,” Dad retorted, trying to move the scarves back, but I slapped his wrist to make him stop. “Guys get lonely in this place if they’re single. If you don’t cover your junk up, they see it as an invitation to fuck you and leave.”

“Dad,” I said seriously, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. “I can handle myself. I roundhouse kicked Matt Tuck straight to the face. I think I’m okay.”

“Fine,” Dad huffed, hunching his shoulders. I smiled and hugged him again. Behind him, I saw Avenged Sevenfold wandering our way, obviously so Matt could meet one of his idols.

“Fan-men at 10 o’clock,” I warned Dad. He turned around in time for Matt to step up to him.

“M. Shadows, right?” Dad asked as he shook Matt’s hand. I giggled behind my hand at the gleeful look Matt got at hearing that his idol knew who he was. “Steven Tyler, at your service. But, if I get wind that you’re putting the moves on my daughter, I won’t be so friendly next time.”

“DAD!” I yelled, turning and punching his arm hard. “No! Stop that shit right now! He’s not interested, and if he was, you wouldn’t be able to do a thing! You’re not twenty anymore.”

“Sorry, Asher, couldn’t help myself,” Dad replied with a shit-eating grin. “Seriously, Matt, though. I still got a great right hook.”

“Dad, enough,” I growled through gritted teeth. Dad held up both hands in surrender.

“I’m done,” he answered lightly, grinning my way. “I’m finished.”

I just shook my head at him as he turned back to continue talking to Matt.

“Asher.”

I turned to see Amy standing next to me, smiling and opening her arms for a hug. I quickly hugged her, glancing over her shoulder to see Matt’s eyes straying back to Amy. Either he really liked Amy or...he really liked Amy.

“Congratulations,” Amy said happily. “It was so fun being your mentor. You’re a pleasant protégé.”

“Thanks,” I replied with a smile. “C’mon,” I continued, grabbing her arm and pulling her away from my father and they guys, “I need some alcohol in my system.”

~~~~~

A couple of hours later, I’d succeeded in getting successfully drunk. Not off-my-ass drunk, but drunk enough that I’d have a serious hangover in the morning. Morning seemed a long way off, though, so my drunken self didn’t worry. Amy and I danced together on the dance floor, the flashing lights illuminating our dresses all different sorts of colors. We grinded our hips together, hands on each other’s waist, moving ourselves to the beat of the music.

Suddenly, a Jonas Brothers song blasted from the stereos. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact song, and frankly, I didn’t care. All motion on the dance floor screeched to a halt as everyone looked first at the speakers, and then at the DJ standing behind his booth. The disco ball flashed across his grin.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he said into his microphone as he switched the song off. “HOW BOUT SOME SEVENFOLD!?”

The once-silent crowd burst into cheers. The DJ flipped some switches, changed some CDs, and finally Scream blasted from the stereos: a perfect night club song. Everyone instantly went back to dancing; both Amy and I sang along with Matt’s voice blasting from the stereo. Damn, that man could sing. He reminded me slightly of my father with all his raw talent.

Speaking of the devil, Matt appeared out of nowhere. He raised his eyebrows at me, an obvious sign that he’d prefer to be in my place. Recalling Amy telling me she liked Matt, I gladly obliged to step away from her. Amy opened her mouth to say something, probably protest me leaving, but then Matt stepped in front of her, and I couldn’t see her anymore. I figured she probably looked pretty damn happy, and smiled to myself as I weaved back through the dancing crowd towards my table.

Asher the matchmaker, that’s me. Making matches and matching makes for five minutes running. I remembered in high school, I loved playing matchmaker to my friends. Usually, my matches lasted a while. I had a few failures, but even the best artist has that one painting no one likes.

I sat down at my table and rested my head on the tablecloth. The pounding music thumped against my temples, and I began to wish for soft pajamas, silence, and sleep.

I wasn’t sure how much time passed before I opened my eyes again. It could’ve been just a few seconds; it could’ve been a few hours. Either way, I opened my eyes not to thumping music and grinding bodies, but a silent hallway and a view of the underside of someone’s face and the ceiling. I squinted and turned my head, trying to block out the bright lights embedded into the ceiling.

It took several more seconds for me to realize that I was being carried, with one arm supporting my back and the other hooked securely underneath my knees. I’d pressed my face into the crook of the person’s elbow, protecting my sensitive eyes from the blinding lights.

“I saw you slumped at your table,” the person explained, and I struggled to put the voice with a name. “I figured you were done with partying tonight and decided to take you to your room so you wouldn’t be taken advantage of. There’s a lot of dirt bag rockstars in this place.”

“Are my boobs falling out yet?” I mumbled, reaching a hand up to tug on the bust of my dress. The person laughed, and I could feel his chest vibrating against my side.

“Nope,” he answered, and suddenly it clicked: Jimmy. Jimmy was my mystery savior. “What room number was yours again?”

“46...I think,” I murmured, burrowing my face deeper into his elbow. It smelled strange, but good strange, you know, like something you’ve never smelled before but it smells so good you just want to keep smelling even though you haven’t got the faintest clue what the hell it is that you are smelling.

“That sounds about right,” Jimmy said. He stopped and leaned down slightly to turn the doorknob. He nudged the door open with his foot and flicked the light on with his elbow. I groaned at the sudden burst of light, raising a feeble hand to cover my face from the white glare. Jimmy carried me over to my bed, which I’d since personalized with my own bed sheets from home. He carefully put me down on the edge of my bed. I concentrated on staying sitting up as he crouched down and slipped my shoes off my feet.

He lifted me slightly off of the bed to pull back the covers before hooking an arm underneath my calves and turning me around so that my legs fell upon the bed. I sank back into my pillow, throwing a forearm across my eyes to keep out the light. Jimmy kindly pulled the sheets back up over me, tucking them underneath my arms. I heard his footsteps walk away for a brief moment before advancing towards me again.

“I put a trash can next to your bed, just in case you, you know...”

“Up-chuck,” I finished for him. He made a noise of agreement before leaning down and pressing the gentlest of kisses against my forehead.

“Sleep well, and don’t forget to take some Tylenol for that headache,” Jimmy whispered. He brushed my hair back from my face before stepping away from my bed. I heard him flick the light off, step out the door, and close it behind.

And then, I sank into a dreamless sleep.