The March of the Black Queen (book III)

19.) Before His Feet, She Fell

A/N:

This chapter starts off with a widdo flashback
Hope you like it, lovies!

Y'all KNOW I hate writing fluff lolololll
My heart won't allow it.
BUT you deserve it!

Enjoy 🥰💖

It was a day much like any other. Me and the boys in a new city, a new show on the schedule. When we were all so young, wild and crazy.

We'd all been nursing pounding head-aching hangover results from the night before. Partying, drugs and modern times rock n' roll— that and a lot of sex.

I remember not feeling quite up to par that day. My face was pale, my eyes rung with tired, dark circles and my impatience at an all time high. I was accustomed to being quiet as a consequence of my self consciousness. I just really hope the makeup team can make me look presentable, and take the camera focus off of my mouth and to my eyes instead. That's why I wear the makeup. I've been told I have deeply captivating eyes. The liner brings them out more.

We had to make due with the worn out rock n roll scene for a while until we became known for our outlandish, unique style. Mostly thanks to my take on the high-end faux fashion statements that I'd pick up at little shops along the way. Everybody in the bumsucking world quickly became intrigued and knew who we were.

In those days we didn't care about the money— well, we weren't smart enough to be all that careful. We had enough for food, touring essentials, extravagant homes and extra bags for just for fun. It was a worthy price to pay for touring with my band, across the waters, across the land to get in bed with every blue-eyed floozy that came our way. That was "in" back then. Bagging the all time American Princess. A far cry from any bride to be. At least, I'd soon come to realize that fact

My taste had always been on women that fit that description. Long blonde hair, big blue eyes, a tiny waist and legs for days. I didn't see anything wrong with that, until my sights were set on a different side of the spectrum. I was dating men and women, well...I wouldn't say dating, per say. More like, I'd get fucked every night and have the time of my life so much so that I would hardly remember a thing that happened the following morning, unless my nightly companion slept beside me.

The day in question— ah, yes. Let's get back to the topic.

It was a sweltering hot day and I'd decided, of course, to deck on a long sleeved button down, with my chocolate brown fur coat and my cream colored yarn scarf to hang around my neck. I wasn't going to be caught dead in anything hideous for this photo shoot. It was meant to be promotional. Maybe a cover for our new album. I had to bring my own reinforcements, like my dark aviator shades and a feathered wool Fedora hat, just in case.

Roger has been being a real nag. We were all so tired of his complaining since the moment we all met up that morning. The ride to the outdoor photo session was mostly quiet besides his insistent pestering.

"Fred, you should have seen the bird I took back to the hotel last night! Funny thing, she was there for you, but took a liking to me instead," Roger said as smug as can be, still sitting in the seat next to me, with is eyes closed.

I turn to him, with a look of fed up annoyance riddled all over my face. I crinkled my nose and let my mouth hang open, at a loss of words for him completely ruining my morning champagne time.