Darling I'm a Hurricane

“Oh my god, he has long hair,” Krystal breathed, she turned to face Adele, “you know that’s one of my weaknesses.”

Adele raised one freshly waxed eyebrow. The pair of them had been standing behind the heaven bar, elbows resting on the now clean bar top, watching the boys from the band bringing in their equipment, accompanied by Dean and some of their roadies. Neither of them had much to do. Krystal had really only come in early to check the band out and call dibs on one of them. Adele on the other hand was waiting for them to get their crap together, so she could test Heaven and Hell’s second hand amps and make sure everything was working and that no one was going to be sent to the hospital because of an unfortunate electric shock.

“So, I’m calling dibs on him,” Krystal pointed to the lean boy with long brown hair that hung in a curtain either side of his face. He had soft looking features, and he seemed like the quiet one, as unlike his friends, he was the only one who hadn’t spoken since entering the building. He’d be no match for Krystal. She’d probably spike his drink with rum and be all over him whilst his inhibitions dissolved into thin air.

“Which one do you want to call?” Krystal asked. She scanned over each of the fresh, young looking faces. If Adele didn’t decide for herself, then Krystal would do it for her.

“None of them, and don’t even think about trying to get me to get off with one of them, because I don’t want to.”

Krystal wrinkled her nose. “How professional and boring of you.”

“Band boys are bad news. You’ll soon figure that out.”

“Oi! Are you two just going to stand there bitching about us or are you gonna pull your fingers out and help?” Dean called over to them. He placed a cardboard box marked with the word ‘t-shirts’, on the floor and looked up in their direction. He pushed his unruly hair out of his face and placed his hands on his bony hips.

“Nah, we’re good bitching about you, Deano!” Krystal called back to him, letting a giggle loose.

“Oh come on, ladies! We could really use some more help,” an unfamiliar boy came to stand beside Dean, an identical cardboard box in his arms. He sent them a cheeky wink, closely followed by an irresistible grin.

Krystal sighed dreamily. “You know what? I’m taking back my call. I’m open to any of these fine boys.” She painted a bright smile across her features, before walking around the bar and heading over to Dean and the other boy.

Adele narrowed her eyes. “Slut.”

“You as well!” The boy called, motioning for Adele to join them.

She groaned, before slowly making her way over to them. By the time she got there, Krystal was in full on flirt mode. She batted her heavily made up eyelashes, following the boy who had introduced himself as Max, around, giggling at every word that left his lips. She didn’t do any work, simply pretending to do so, leaving Adele and Dean to jump on the tiny stage at the end of the room. On any normal night, the stage would be left open for people to dance on, sometimes the hollow metallic poles were brought out and placed on there, for middle aged women and teenage girls to make fools of themselves, trying to swing around like the professionals, and often flashing their embarrassing knickers in the process.

Dean set to work setting up the drum kit, whilst Adele set to work testing an amplifier. She unlocked one of the guitar cases and picked the shiny guitar out, plugging wires in and switching on sockets. She pressed buttons on the amp, until the guitar let out an ear shattering shriek. Everyone in the room groaned, covering their ears in preparation for the next screaming attack.

“Oh no! You’re doing that wrong!” A voice called out.

Adele froze. She inhaled deeply, looking around, hoping whoever was going to point out a silly mistake would be directing it towards Dean. She wasn’t up for an argument with some floppy haired band boy who thought he was god’s gift to women and the music industry.

One of the boys appeared at her side. He unplugged the wire connecting the amp to the guitar. “We don’t use that one, because of that,” he frowned, pulling the wire out of the bottom of the guitar. He jumped off the stage and walked over to his friends, all standing in a cluster, chatting amongst themselves now their work was done until nine o clock that night. “Guys, where’s the green cable?” He waved the damaged one in his hand around. It shook like a snake.

Adele watched with curiosity as the boy retrieved the green cable and climbed back onto the stage, handing it to her. “Should work now.” He smiled. She felt her throat go dry, her stomach flip flopped and her thoughts melted. She simply nodded.

“Do you need any help with anything?” He asked.

“If you’re willing,” Dean grinned, as he screwed a cymbal into place, giving it a gentle tap.

“What do you need me to do?” He glanced at Dean, then focused his gaze on Adele.

“Um,” She looked around, trying to place her thoughts in a coherent order. Her eyes scanned cases and boxes, racking her brains for what else needed setting up. She glanced at him, he was still waiting patiently. Her thought process would be so much quicker if he wasn’t such a good looking stranger. “The bass! You’d be saving our arses if you could do that, since neither me nor Deano can play it, so we’re not any good at actually tuning it and stuff.” She breathed a sigh of relief at having gotten the request in the correct order.

“Ah, I’m your man then. Since I’m the bassist and all.” He strode over to the opposite end of the stage, pulling the heavy case towards himself. Adele watched him, her head tilting slightly as he bent over, his jeans coming further down, exposing more of his Superman themed boxers.

Dean coughed, cutting through her daydream. She snapped her head to glare at him. “What? You were staring at his arse,” he mumbled, suppressing a laugh. “Thought you were over pretty band dudes anyway?”

She shrugged. “No harm in looking, Dean, my boy, no harm in looking.”

The boy turned back to look at the pair of them. A smile graced his features, as he pulled his bass over his head. “I’m Matt, by the way.”

She nodded. “Adele.” She averted her dreamy gaze to the rest of the room. Krystal was standing between Max and the boy with the hair. She twirled a lock of her chestnut hair around her finger, smiling and nodding as Max spoke, his arms gesticulating wildly. The other set of boys were standing a bit further away from them. Adele could point out the band members. They were the one’s in the brightly coloured tops and hoodies, skinny jeans and Nikes. The one’s with floppy fringes covering their eyes, the hairstyle that moved as they moshed on stage. All of them were attractive, there was no doubt about that.

She felt hot breath on her neck, and Dean’s hushed voice chimed in her ear. “Spoilt for choice, aren’t you, babe?” He smiled innocently as he jumped off the stage and headed towards the boys standing away from Krystal and her new boy toys.

Adele shook her head, glancing at the boys. “No harm in looking,” she mumbled, before plugging the guitar in and getting to work.