That's My Boy

Somehow the entire group managed to find their way backstage: Melvin, Courtney, Bridget, Joey, Brenda, Richie, Tasha, Tina, and Shelly. As they maneuvered through the crowd to the back, they kept picking each one up like a line of marching ants. Tina and Shelly were the two last, and they were found making out in a dark corner next to the stage, breathlessly groping each other through their clothes, much to Melvin's disdain. But it wasn't like Tina was his actual flesh and blood relative, and he figured he'd get over it.

The dressing room for the band was fairly large and comfortable with a few couches for sitting and tables covered in finger foods and drinks. Violet hopped on a counter in front of some mirrors, crossed her long legs and began introductions.

"This is Crow, our drummer," she said and pointed to a thin man with long black hair and skin covered in tattoos. "And Red, lead guitar, and Hammer on bass."

Red was another female whose clothes matched her name, only she seemed to be covered in some form of low hanging drapes. She was stick thin, her hair shoulder length and dyed dark red. Hammer, on the other hand, was man of muscles on top of muscles, and Melvin couldn't find any semblance of a neck between his head and shoulders. The girls didn't seem to mind.

"Ooo, I like Hammer the best," Shelly whispered, and Tasha and Tina giggled. Even Brenda snickered at the joke, and Melvin could tell from her admiring expression that she liked Hammer the best as well. Richie, her official date for the evening, frowned as he also noticed her expression.

"Something to drink? Something to smoke? Something to inhale or inject?" Crow asked as he walked over, a joint held between his long fingers.

"THAT'S my boy!" Brenda exclaimed and met him halfway, taking the joint and inhaling deeply. Richie stumbled after her, but Crow already had an spindly arm around Brenda's shoulders and pulled the joint of out her grasp.

"Shit, girl. Save some for the rest of us," he said in a whispery voice.