H
Hex Angel
Guest
April 3, 2003
London, England
2:51 AM local time
*RING*
"mmmmm...."
*RING*
"Eli?"
*RING*
"Eli, you awake?"
*RING*
"Damnitt."
*RING*
Angel reached around her massive (and unconscious - alcohol mixed with pain medication makes for a sleepy King of Extreme) husband--
*RING*
--as she was just able to reach the phone.
"Hello?"
"Angel, it's me," Angel recognized the voice of her bassist, TJ, "Were you asleep?"
"Yeah," she replied, pushing her long black hair out of her face, "but it's okay. What's up?"
"We're out of a job."
"Which?"
"The big job."
She sat up straight - suddenly wide awake. "We're off the Ozzfest dates?"
"No, not the tour," replied TJ, "I mean out of a job. Artemis released us from our contract."
"WHAT?!?"
"Hmmm?" mumbled Eli, waking up at the shriek.
"Teej, what the flying shiznat's been goin' on? You guys are s'posed to be mixing the first four tracks of the new CD."
"Don't blame me, Angel," countered TJ, "Evidently they're not happy with sales for Corpus Noctem - you know, the album we put out that they never promoted. We would've promoted it ourselves but we barely covered expenses on the tour that they never gave us any support for."
She thought about it, and as she flipped on the light and grabbed Eli Flair's T-shirt off the floor, it suddenly came to her.
"Why's this a big deal again? We put out Scarred and we've got our pick of labels," she explained, pacing the room as Eli came more to life, "We've really got something there."
"I agree," replied TJ, "but no label funding equals no studio time, unless your rich, famous, and most likely doped up husband can fund it."
"No!" interrupted Angel, "I told you guys, if we ever took any kind of help from Eli or Ivy we'd never be our own band... just that chick who's married to Eli Flair and her sideshow musicians."
"You really believe in that, don't you?"
She stopped pacing, and eyed herself in the full- length mirror on the door of the closet. The scars on her forearm were healing well - in retrospect, her 'performance art' at the gig in Spencer was probably not a good idea. But it made the show one of the most talked - about of their career.
"Of course I do," she replied, "Teej, we got our first major break because of the music... back in the day when I was managing the video store and dancing... we can handle this. Get Mick to help you, we need to find ourselves a decent business manager. I'm out tomorrow, so I'll be able to give a hand from then on. How much studio time can we afford?"
"Weeeeeelllll...."
"I f**kin' hate it when you do that," she hissed, "What's the problem?"
"We've... already got representation and a potential lead on a new gig."
"Great! Have I heard of 'em?"
"...Yeah."
"Well?"
"McGinnis Management Group."
"...Ivy?"
"Ivy."
"Dare I even ask where the gig is?"
"...Battle of the Belts."
"... Pay Per View," sighed Angel, "great. Thanks, Teej... will see you this weekend."
"Arite, Angel... my best to the rat pack. Love ya."
"You too. Wait a second!"
"Hmmm?"
"Can you be in North Carolina on Saturday?"
"I... suppose. Am I gonna get paid back this time?"
"Course you will."
"Yeah, right. Sorry I woke ya, kiddo."
"Of course you are," laughed Angel, "Seeya this weekend."
She clicked off the phone and stood in the darkness for a moment. Looking around suddenly, she grabbed her skirt off the floor and pulled it on, as well as her Sketchers.
"Eli?"
"Hmmm?"
"Can you get us an earlier flight back to the States?"
"Mmmmm."
"Like, tomorrow?"
"Mmmmm."
"Good," she replied, heading for the door, "I've gotta find Ivy... dunno whether to hug her or strangle her. Go back to sleep."
As Angel closed the door, Eli suddenly looked up. He stared toward the door for a few seconds, before reaching for the light and clicking it off.
"Musicians, man... too damn hyperactive."
London, England
2:51 AM local time
*RING*
"mmmmm...."
*RING*
"Eli?"
*RING*
"Eli, you awake?"
*RING*
"Damnitt."
*RING*
Angel reached around her massive (and unconscious - alcohol mixed with pain medication makes for a sleepy King of Extreme) husband--
*RING*
--as she was just able to reach the phone.
"Hello?"
"Angel, it's me," Angel recognized the voice of her bassist, TJ, "Were you asleep?"
"Yeah," she replied, pushing her long black hair out of her face, "but it's okay. What's up?"
"We're out of a job."
"Which?"
"The big job."
She sat up straight - suddenly wide awake. "We're off the Ozzfest dates?"
"No, not the tour," replied TJ, "I mean out of a job. Artemis released us from our contract."
"WHAT?!?"
"Hmmm?" mumbled Eli, waking up at the shriek.
"Teej, what the flying shiznat's been goin' on? You guys are s'posed to be mixing the first four tracks of the new CD."
"Don't blame me, Angel," countered TJ, "Evidently they're not happy with sales for Corpus Noctem - you know, the album we put out that they never promoted. We would've promoted it ourselves but we barely covered expenses on the tour that they never gave us any support for."
She thought about it, and as she flipped on the light and grabbed Eli Flair's T-shirt off the floor, it suddenly came to her.
"Why's this a big deal again? We put out Scarred and we've got our pick of labels," she explained, pacing the room as Eli came more to life, "We've really got something there."
"I agree," replied TJ, "but no label funding equals no studio time, unless your rich, famous, and most likely doped up husband can fund it."
"No!" interrupted Angel, "I told you guys, if we ever took any kind of help from Eli or Ivy we'd never be our own band... just that chick who's married to Eli Flair and her sideshow musicians."
"You really believe in that, don't you?"
She stopped pacing, and eyed herself in the full- length mirror on the door of the closet. The scars on her forearm were healing well - in retrospect, her 'performance art' at the gig in Spencer was probably not a good idea. But it made the show one of the most talked - about of their career.
"Of course I do," she replied, "Teej, we got our first major break because of the music... back in the day when I was managing the video store and dancing... we can handle this. Get Mick to help you, we need to find ourselves a decent business manager. I'm out tomorrow, so I'll be able to give a hand from then on. How much studio time can we afford?"
"Weeeeeelllll...."
"I f**kin' hate it when you do that," she hissed, "What's the problem?"
"We've... already got representation and a potential lead on a new gig."
"Great! Have I heard of 'em?"
"...Yeah."
"Well?"
"McGinnis Management Group."
"...Ivy?"
"Ivy."
"Dare I even ask where the gig is?"
"...Battle of the Belts."
"... Pay Per View," sighed Angel, "great. Thanks, Teej... will see you this weekend."
"Arite, Angel... my best to the rat pack. Love ya."
"You too. Wait a second!"
"Hmmm?"
"Can you be in North Carolina on Saturday?"
"I... suppose. Am I gonna get paid back this time?"
"Course you will."
"Yeah, right. Sorry I woke ya, kiddo."
"Of course you are," laughed Angel, "Seeya this weekend."
She clicked off the phone and stood in the darkness for a moment. Looking around suddenly, she grabbed her skirt off the floor and pulled it on, as well as her Sketchers.
"Eli?"
"Hmmm?"
"Can you get us an earlier flight back to the States?"
"Mmmmm."
"Like, tomorrow?"
"Mmmmm."
"Good," she replied, heading for the door, "I've gotta find Ivy... dunno whether to hug her or strangle her. Go back to sleep."
As Angel closed the door, Eli suddenly looked up. He stared toward the door for a few seconds, before reaching for the light and clicking it off.
"Musicians, man... too damn hyperactive."