[GLKnight] Getting With The Goddesses

[GLKnight]

Sorry I've been mostly inactive. Working on a couple books, taking care of my health and whatnot lead to me not continuing some of my stories on here. Now that I'm doing better, figured I'd at least show I'm trying to do more, so here's a new one. And hopefully some updates in the coming weeks for both A Chance Encounter and Another Birthday.

With that said...

Getting With The Goddesses
by GLKnight
________________________________________

"Dude, you gotta come to this gig! The Knuxxx are fucking INCREDIBLE!"

Brandon slowly turned his head up at his roommate, Nicodemus. His high and tight hair was dyed Electric Purple this month.

"Come on," Brandon sighed, rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. "ANOTHER punk show? That'll make it 4 this month..."

"You mean FIVE," Nicodemus exclaimed proudly, the jewelry adorning his right arm jingling under his black long sleeve shirt as he held his right hand out like a child would.

Brandon drifted back to his World Literature homework on his desk.

"Exactly. I don't think my ears could handle more damage. Besides, the last show was so terrible, I was pretty sure my ears were starting to bleed..."

"Bro," Nicodemus said, kneeling down beside his desk with an imploring look in his eyes. "TRUST ME! You wanna know what makes this show so fucking special?"

Putting down his pencil, he put his hand on his chin, and shot Nicodemus a look of incredulity.

"What makes this show sooo special?"

Nicodemus leaned in close, and smiled broadly.

"It's an ALL GIRL BAND LINEUP!"

________________________________________________

The club was small, cramped and somewhat packed. All examples of the kinds of things that Brandon didn't really like. But one look at the booth by the bar, full of customers to his right, and Brandon knew he had made the right choice to come.

"About fucking time we saw the Knuxxx! To girls night, ladies!"

The venue was almost nothing but female customers.

"Knuxxx goes on as the headliners," Nicodemus began, his eyes roving around the crowd. "So that means we've got 3 bands before them. I'm gonna hit the bar, you want anything?"

"Maybe some water, man. But before you go, who's playing before them?"

The sound of guitar strings being plucked and tuned pulled Brandon's eyes towards the stage. The only thing he saw above the crowd was the Liberty Spikes of whoever the guitarist was on stage, tuning their guitar for the show.

"Let's see," he replied, staring at his phone. "There's the Hags. Saw them on a bill with Rockin' Throbbin'. That show was pretty killer. East Coast Hardcore with a bit of Oi, IN-FUCKING-SANE pit. Then there's the Lil Scarlings. They're okay Pop Punk, in my opinion. Trying a bit too hard to be AFI and the like for me. And the opening act is... Huh, never heard of these girls before."

Brandon turned back towards Nicodemus, curious about what was confusing him.

"What do you mean?"

The blistering of drums, and heavy vibe of a bass being tuned washed over the venue.

"It's a new band, apparently."

"How new are we talking?"

Brandon looked at the stage again, and notice the stage now had 5 women on it. The crowd was beginning to notice, and the atmosphere grew heavy with the anticipation of the building fury they all knew was about to be unleashed.

"LIKE FIRST GIG EVER," Nicodemus shouted.

"What are they called?"

The lady with the giant spiky purple mohawk stepped to the mic, and threw the horns into the air. And at her signal, the band began to play.

The waves of music crashed into and around Brandon. Something clicked within, and suddenly he felt both lighter and heavier than anyone could ever feel. The sensation of a thousand streams of energy coursed through him, as he thought of nothing but drowning in its presence.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! Welcome to Larkin's! Tonight you're here to experience the pinnacle of FEMININE POWER! THE KNUXX! THE HAGS! THE LITTLE SCARLINGS! AND MAKING OURSELVES KNOWN AT LAST! WE ARE THE SOUND! WE ARE THE FURY! WE ARE THE GODDESSES!"

The lead singer raised her right hand in the air, and grabbed the neck of her guitar with her left.

"SO, CONVERTED BELIEVERS! WORSHIP US! AND THRASH IN PLEASURE AND PAIN! AND MOVE YOUR-"

The band went quiet, taking the sound of the audience with them.

"MUSCLE MAAAAAAACHIIIIIIINE!" the singer screamed, and as soon as she went silent, she swung her arm down and strummed her guitar.

The sounds of chord progressions somewhat similar to Anti-Nowhere League's "So What", but in a different key and pattern, with a faster rhythm, broke down the walls, and got the audience to roar in response.

"GET ME A WATER," Brandon shouted at Nicodemus, hurriedly walking to the crowd. "I'LL BE IN FRONT!"

Before Nicodemus could even respond, Brandon was already making his way into the pit, towards the front of the stage..

[Jeremy Lightning]

Alright, good start, I am looking forward to seeing what these goddesses have for us puny humans to worship. k+!

[Bugenhagen]

Gotta admit... I never thought I'd ever experience punk rock and female muscle together like this. Novel and long overdue!

Also, the Hip Hop/Rock band "the Knux" is also pretty good. I saw them at a house party once!

[Jimthehunter54]

Nice start can’t wait for another part

[Lupus753]

Reminds me of something Grimmtoof did on Writing.com. That's not a criticism; I honestly like where this story is going.

[GLKnight]

The almost eerily apocalyptic currents of bodies thrashed and slammed against itself, a tidal wave of sonic youth and vigor as Brandon tried his best to cut a path through the storm of flesh and hair. A blond with big tits floated above his head, topless and rolling just right for her nipple to almost slip itself into his mouth, just teasing enough to make him want to latch on before the wave shifted and pulled her away. A giant of a man with long brown hair lost his footing, and was swept away to his left, and disappeared below. A guy bracing himself by the wall, guarding what was obviously his girlfriend, herself completely lost in the blasting drums and penetrating bass coming from the speaker a couple feet in front of them. And more than he could even hope to comprehend as he was battered on all sides.

But Brandon himself felt nothing but serenity and focus. His ears were tuned to the lead guitar, keyed into the vocals, and eyes locked onto the spires of spikes of hair on the head of the lead singer he immediately felt something for. Every step guided by the beat, every jostle a tug forward, and every vibration taking the place of every heartbeat in his chest. Until finally, FINALLY! The crowd began to ease and part.

One step, the lights of the stage began to cut through the mire of men and women as they made way for him.

Two step, the light became brilliant, and he raised his hand to shield his eyes. He made it to the front! The last two people in his way, both ladies who had turned to look back at him, smiled gently before stepping to the side to let him take his place at the front of the stage.

Third step, he took his spot, and looked up at the band. 5 beautiful women, all of a different ethnicity, all in different cultural appearances, and all of them with a palpable air of authority and power, furthered by the fact that they were all in shape, at a minimum.

On drums was a lady of obviously Hispanic or Brazilian origin. Adorned in jewels, pendants attached to a gold choker, rings and other jewelry, she wore a gold lame top, flowing wildly as she feverishly slammed the kit in front of her. Her dark hair was long and straight, framing an almost unnaturally pretty face decked out in traditional tribal makeup. Her eyes cool and uncaring as she dominated the toms and bass and snare, manipulated the cymbals, and danced the songs to the rhythm she blasted out from her drums at her own pace.

On bass was what some would call the anomaly of the band: a short and rather thin looking Asian girl, hair done up in pigtails, and decked out in a gothic lolita dress. But then Brandon noticed the blue face paint, the oni mask she had hanging around her neck, the hairband with two little horns sticking out of it, the platform boots she wore, all paired well and perfectly with the green and black striped leather jacket she wore over it all. Her face was the brightest out of the entire band, almost gleefully exuding the energy to get the show going.

Standing over the keys was a dusky skinned woman with long, dark wavy, wearing gold and copper bangles, and by all accounts the most modestly dressed in a simple black leather jacket, a dark skirt, and a light blue shirt with the band's logo (this time written in Arabic or Farsi or something, Brandon wasn't sure). But out of all the ladies, it was what was IN the shirt that helped set her apart, as the keyboardist was by far the bustiest lady in the building. But whereas most would have a problem with their own size, she showed no such issues, easily bouncing and rocking along with the rest of the people in the venue, not even showing any concern for her size and what might happen if she kept doing what she did.

On rhythm guitar stood what would be considered the giant of the band, an amazonian black woman with her natural hair tied back in a white t-shirt with the band's logo, a pair of tight black jeans, and her own leather jacket, this one a vibrant red . Her figure almost completely filled out all of her clothes, coiled and ready for every action. Her large hands easily encompassed the neck of her six string guitar, her thick fingers easily gliding along and pressing down for every chord. Something Brandon felt was par for the course until he realized just how thick the strings were, and the realization for the finger strength needed to even make a strong strummed chord sound. He wasn't sure if she heard him, but when he gasped at the thought, a look of seductive satisfaction immediately crept across her face as she chuckled to herself. She pursed her plumps lips, and her fingers began to do their magic as she dove into a solo.

Then he turned his attention towards the lead singer, and he was sure his heart skipped a beat when he saw that she had her crystal blue eyes on him the entire time. A spark shot through him when their eyes met, as he felt the streams of energy well up within him again, building higher and higher until he was sure that he would explode in a furious ball of starlight and eternity. Suddenly, he felt that he had discovered the meaning of life itself, of the purpose of existence. He was awash in so many different sensations and emotions at once: lust, love, hope, fear, all the emotions of existence and experience in an orgasmic enlightenment. The way her hair matched her jacket and eye shadow, perfectly complimenting the yellow shirt she wore underneath, both filled by an incredibly powerful looking frame. The fact her jeans left nothing to the imagination, her legs long and full, straining the capacity of the denim and threatening to burst the damn things wide. The wry, "you're going to be mine" look on her face as she played, looking directly at him with a clear desire for his touch and attention.

Then the crowd roared, and Brandon realized that the song was over. And he began to cheer, but both he and the lead singer's eyes never parted.

"Oh my God,"he thought to himself. Then, he noticed that her eyebrows lifted as her smiled became more flirtatious, almost like she could hear his thoughts. And he suddenly imagined her response.

"Oh my GODDESS, actually"before she began to giggle, and turned to her band to revel in the feeling of a great start, and letting the crowd die down a little before getting to their next song.

[Lupus753]

Interested to see where this goes.

[Jeremy Lightning]

Very nice! I loved your description of each of the band mates, each having their own unique look and feel. You have a feeling that each is strong, but in their own ways, I like the bass player, shorter, leaner girls tend to be my weakness, especially if they turn out strong enough to lift and overpower a much bigger guy. Looking forward to more! k+!

[GLKnight]

The sonic wall that blasted the crowd was intense, to say the least. Each song carried the audience to grander and grander highs, and the freefall through the storm of battered bodies as they fell deeper and deeper into the pit near the front of the stage. No man, woman or other was left unmoved, as Brandon could assuredly claim feeling, with each sway and pulse of the mad mob at his back. But he showed no sign of caring whatsoever. His eyes were locked on the lead singer, and for most of the time, hers were on him. But every time their eyes met again, he swore he could feel this.. almost intensely thrilling jolt run through him.

Then he saw her raising her hands, and suddenly the throng behind him began to quiet down, and with a sense of Biblical power, be still. And that was when he noticed that though he was there, though his ears were ringing, his body subtly aching from the assailants around him, he had somehow become so lost in the music that he had missed almost their entire set.

"Now comes the part of the set that everyone hates," the singer began. "The one thing that binds us all, my little believers. And that is the finale. The crescendo. THE ETERNAL VOW!"

The band in unison threw their arms into the air, proudly holding the horns up as the audience roared in jubilation, before they grew still again.

"And in honor of the pact we have made here tonight, I wish to share this vow with you all. So, on behalf of all the Goddesses! On drums, The Goddess of the Divine Rhythm! ALMA RODRIGUEZ!"

A blistering solo machine gunned out from the drums as Alma quickly went to work with an intense and incredibly powerful solo for more than a minute, as the crowd quickly exploded again and just as suddenly settled.

"On the keys, the beautiful and bountiful Goddess of the Chords! Sauska al-Thanis!"

The busty keyboardist quickly soared into a soaring and beautiful mix of a Rick Wakeman tune and Bach's Air on a G String, then dove into a distorted and intense remix of Toccata and Fugue in D before gliding into Handel's Messiah as the lead guitarist joined along, imitating the chords of a Brian May guitar solo to finish the highlight. As the crowd cheered, Shaushka began to bodily laugh and high fived the amazonian guitarist, totally caught up in the moment.

"And on the Bass! Our own musical Beast of the East! The Little Oni! YORI ONIZUKA!"

Skipping to the front of the stage, the Asian girl giggled and waved at the audience before twisting to the right, grabbing the neck of her guitar, and dancing and hopping along with a giant smile on her face as she controlled and manipulated the massive strings into an incredible show of technical prowess and amazing grip strength punctuated by a J-Pop idol vibe from the punk pixie in the blue face makeup that despite playing a blistering hour long set of original music, had yet to even begin to run. In fact, it almost seemed that she had yet to sweat even once the entire set! This thought wormed its way through Brandon's brain as she ended her solo to thunderous applause, giggling and waving back.

"On guitar! The Mistress of the Strings! MIGHTY MAYRA EVERTON!"

Coolly walking up next to the spiky coifed singer, they gave each other a smile and a nod, Mayra's left hand held on tight, as her fingers audibly slid up the neck, scritching like a pick before quickly strumming out a roaring chord that caused the audience to roar right back. Her shoulders and arms bulged with each bend and mashing of the whammy bar in a blistering barrage of musical muscle and acumen.

"And of course, there's yours truly!"

Decoupling the electric guitar strapped to her person, she handed it to Mayra on her right before smoothly shucking her jacket and throwing it aside. And Brandon's eyes went wide. The sheer definition she had! The fact that the jacket could barely hide the sheer amount of mass in both the tight shirt she wore, as well as equally tight jacket. If he hadn't known any better, he could have sworn the shirt itself wasn't just painted on, which sent his thoughts spiraling back to 5 months prior when he saw a band called Fainted Paces, who were all men who painted themselves to look like they were wearing tuxedos. Thankfully, he'd rather see the Goddesses in body paint than them, mostly because Fainted Paces sucked MASSIVE balls.

Especially with how the lady on the mic looked. In all honesty, Brandon normally didn't like jacked girls. But something about the way she looked, how the shirt twisted and bulged in just the right way to unconsciously display pure power. Something about the way her hips moved, and the fact that he swore he could hear the stitching of her jeans starting to groan and pop. The look on her face as she just let the waves of adulation wash over her, deep in the swelling sensations of adoration and praise. She looked like she was in pure bliss.

"On mic and guitar, my name is Layla Scalzi!"

And on the first syllable of her last name, she suddenly grabbed the collar of her shirt, and proceeded to pull, easily and deftly tearing her shirt in half, revealing that her torso was just as defined as the rest of her, pulling the cloth around her shoulders as she moved into a most muscular pose. Flexing her insane abs as she rolled her arms up, each one a solid brick stacked two by two into a wall of eight dense segments of power lined by an equally impressive Belt of Orion as her arms shifted up and locked into a proper double bicep, as a series of gasps and wows of surprise and envy crested over the crowd. Brandon, however, was completely blown away. There was something about the overall look: punk princess plus powerhouse pixie. He just knew that at that second, that this girl was unique. Special, even.

And in that split second, just enough time for several megajoules of eternity to have flashed through him, he fell for her, HARD.

Easing up on the posing, Mayra slid an acoustic guitar across Layla's frontside, blocking her abs as she quickly tuned the strings and volume.

"And now, for this vow we make between our lovely believers and we, the Five Points of the Star. We shall bind it in love and honesty. For we love you all, make no fucking mistake about that. And we conjure the words and seal the deal with this, our final song of the set."

Once again, Layla's eyes drifted down, and connected with Brandon's yet again.

"For you are ours, and we are yours. And for all eternity, we will love you, hold you, bring you to the most divine of heights. But in return, we ask you do only one thing."

Layla's head fully turned towards Brandon, and her grin grew wider.

"Except for you. I want two things from you. I'm gonna need a shirt after the show. Get me a Knuxxx tour shirt, medium. The red and black one."

The crowd laughed. Brandon didn't care. Anything she wanted, he'd get for her.

"And the second goes for everyone here. The title of this song..."

She strummed the chords, and hummed a note.

"The title of this one... is called Worship Me."

[Jeremy Lightning]

I really, really would love to Worship You Layla, you are my kind of girl! Or in this case, Goddess! Really loved your description, especially of Layla's ripped body! I was falling for Yori before, but now I have a new favorite. But I think if Yori does something nice and powerful in the future, she can easily sway me back to her side. k+!

[GLKnight]

At the front of the stage, Brandon was caught in rapt attention as he watched how strong, yet graceful Layla's fingers were as she played. Sliding up and down the neck of the guitar as she sang in a moderate alto, how her eyes would flit from the guitar to him, to the crowd, back to him and then the guitar. Every time their eyes met, her smile grew wide as her posture shifted a bit, reflexively rolling her shoulders or tensing her arms and abs. For all of the 3 minutes and 17 seconds of her singing, Brandon could swear that everything else had fallen away, and that Layla had sung Worship Me for him and him alone. Only to pull back to reality with her final line.

WORSHIP ME
       And I swear
       That I'll WORSHIP... YOU

Then the final notes rang out. And the audience exploded in cheers and applause and howls and throwing the horns. As the crowd showed their love, Larkin's Emcee, Arwen, spoke through the sound system.

"Ladies and gentlemen! THE GODDESSES!"

The crowd roared once more as a chant broke through the club, before quieting down and letting the house playlist blast through the building.

Brandon, for his part, decided now was as good as any to go get Layla the shirt she wanted. Working his way through the crowd, he approached the vendors in the back, off to the side of the entrance. Thankfully, he was in luck as the lines were empty. Manning the merch was a short, thin woman. All of five feet even and wiry, even in the dark, her deep metallic blue hair dye stood out proudly.

"Excuse me," he asked the waif with deep metallic blue hair behind the table. "Hi!"

For her part, she eyed him up just in case of anything. Brandon could tell this wasn't her first rodeo at a show like this.

"Hey," she replied with a deep drawl. "Whatcha lookin' for?"

"Do you have a, uh... A Kn-"

"Knuxxx," she said as she held out a rolled up shirt. "Beat'em And Weep tour shirt. Red and black variant. Medium, right?"

Brandon was flabbergasted at how quickly this was going.

"Uh, y-yeah!"

"That'll be $18."

Quickly diving into his wallet, Brandon pulled out a $20 before handing it off to her.

"$2 is your change-"

Brandon quickly raised his hand.

"Actually, would it be possible to carry that over to someone else?"

The merch seller gave him a quick once over, confusion obviously on her face.

"You sure?", she asked.

Brandon just nodded his head with an assuring smile. For her part, the merch lady visibly mulled it over before deciding to take him at face value.

"Okay, then! Not too many noble gentlemen like you around nowadays, huh?"

The merch lady handed him the shirt. As soon as the exchange happened, the bartender shouted out behind Brandon.

"EMMY! WE NEED A HAND!"

"Coming," Emmy replied before turning back to her customer. "Pleasure doing business with you, buddy boy! And... a bit of advice?"

Brandon kept his eye on Emmy as she went around the table and towards the bar, but stopped midway to look back at him.

"Those ladies can be a handful. Give them some space when they need it, okay? Especially Layla."

With that, Emmy began to jog into the serving station and taking orders. Brandon, however, stood still as he looked down at the shirt in his hands.

"Give'em space," he contemplated. "What did she mean by that?"

[jhunter]

Nice, a story with good flow and good build up. Hope for more soon.

[GLKnight]

Suddenly, Brandon could feel someone jumping onto his back. He was about to fight whoever it was, but then he saw a little stripe of purple hair.

"Bro," Nicodemus shouted, the beer on his breath letting him know Nic had already met his two beer tolerance limit. "I got Shelly's NUMBER!"

Wrestling him off of his back, Brandon help but roll his eyes at how excited Nic was.

"Shelly...?"

Nic tilted his head back, releasing a "Gah!" for Brandon's question.

"Brandon-On-Brand yet again! SHELLY!"

Brandon could only just give a shrug.

"The bassist for The Little Scarlings! The one with the killer curves? And the DSL's?"

It suddenly clicked for Brandon what the Hell he was talking about. If anyone didn't know any better, people would just mistake her for a insta**** model that had gone under the knife more than a few times, and not for the whipsmart bassist for a Pop Punk band who wanted to look like that under her own free will.

"I thought it was improper to "wantonly talk about a woman's features" now that you were trying to be more of an active Feminist, dude?"

"I know," Nic replied, pushing Brandon's shoulder slightly. "But there's just something there! I can't quite put my finger on it! Like it's destiny or something!"

"Oh there's something you want to put your fingers on alright," Brandon uttered, shaking his head. "And it isn't called "destiny", you thirsty ass dork."

"Speaking of wanting to get a little something-something..." Nic began, motioning at the shirt his flatmate was holding in his hands. Brandon couldn't help but get a little defensive, holding the shirt to his chest at the implication.

"I-It's not like that," Brandon replied. "Layla just asked me to get her a shirt! That's all!"

Nic, for his drunken part, was not buying it at all.

"Come on, dude! You haven't gotten any in MONTHS, and you're gonna suddenly do whatever that swole singer says because she bats her lashes atcha' or something?"

"Look," Brandon started as he began to walk away. "Say what you want! But a lady asked me to do something, and I aim to please!"

"I bet you are," Nic shouted back. "Just don't blame me when she caves your nuts in, buddy boy!"

Brandon only laughed at Nic's attempt at a jab. But right now, all that was on his mind was finding the girls in The Goddesses. Looking around, he noticed that at the base of the stairs to the entrance to the VIP area stood two members: the petite Yori and the heavily endowed Shaushka, both keeping an eye out for someone. As soon as he got within view, Yori quickly became excited, tapping Shaushka on the shoulder and pointing his way, exciting her as well. Yori couldn't help but squee and giggle, quickly pulling him into a tight hug, lifting him up slightly.

"You're here," she shouted, enthusiastically throwing him side to side slightly. "You're here! You're here! You're heeeeeere!"

"Yori," Shaushka commanded. "We talked about this! Put him down before something happens to him, please."

Yori groaned and pouted, before carefully putting Brandon back on solid ground. Turning to Shaushka, Yori childishly stuck out her tongue.

"Meanie!"

Taking a second to get his bearings straight, Brandon looked up at the VIP section from below.

"So," Brandon slowly spoke. "I got Layla her shirt? If you want, I can just to you guys so you can-"

Before he could even finish, Yori pulled something out of her pocket, and with a flourish, proudly held up a VIP pass in his face.

"Ta-da," she cheered.

"Layla said she wanted you to get her a shirt," Shaushka replied as she began to climb the stairs.

"So you get to give it to her," Yori finished, grabbing his free hand. Brandon decided to just roll with it as one girl led and the other deftly dragged him up the stairs.

[GLKnight]

As he slowly climbed the stairs, the one thing Brandon took full notice of wasn't how many steps there were, nor how much Shaushka's body wobbled and shook inside her clothes that seemed perfectly made to show off just how truly curvaceous she was, nor how surprisingly dark the stairwell was, or even the pounding in his chest he just realized was abnormally loud in his ears. All were well and truly in his notice, and if he was a weaker man, he would have done his damnedest to get as close to Shaushka's impossible proportions as possible. But that was not what was on his mind.

The one thing he took full notice of was just how tight Yori's grip was on his hand. Despite being on the small side, her vice like grip defied expectation even with her being a bassist. It was like the way she held him was both comforting him, letting him know what was going on was real, and yet controlling him, somehow signalling to some part of his soul to not put up a fight and just let her take him. Like there was something about her, hidden away in the hoodie and dress and layer upon layer of clothing. And that blue mask she still wore on her neck...

Then Shaushka's voice broke through his pondering.

"Layla's waiting for you," she said, a mischievous smile on her face as she opened the door. And with precision, Yori slipped behind Brandon, and proceeded to carry him into the VIP section.

There in front of him stood the three remaining members of the band lounging by the railing. On one side stood Alma, still in full makeup and decked in gold, partially turned away as she coolly watched the stage as The Little Scarlings were blasting as loud and as fast as they could. On the other side stood Might Mayra, now sporting a pair of dark Aviators, opposing in her presence as she watched Yori carry a full grown man towards them with an amused look on her face. And in the middle, climbed onto the railing and hanging halfway out over the crowd, was Layla, screaming and cheering inbetween drinks of the beer in her hand, now having gone completely topless and gleefully putting on a show for anyone down below paying attention to her.

"Layla," Mayra shouted, tapping the back of Layla's left shoulder with the back of her hand. Unfortunately, Layla paid no mind as she kept on cheering.

"LAYLA!"

"WHAT?!", the lead singer growled as she whip turned towards her guitarist, an annoyed look on her face.

"The convert's here," she replied, pointing towards the Yori mounted Brandon. Layla's milky white skin quickly began to grow as red as her mohawk as a goofy smile crept across her face. Suddenly getting embarrassed, Layla turned away from Brandon, rubbing one of the buzzed sides of her head like if she had hair there. If Brandon could say anything about her actions, he would have admitted that her sudden shyness was actually kinda cute. Mayra, however, paid no mind as she motioned towards Yori to put him down, which Yori gladly did before skipping over to the railing behind Alma and watch the show.

"Little one," Mayra spoke as she walked over to Brandon. "Glad you could join us up here. Your name?"

"Brandon," he replied, noticing just how big Mayra actually was at six and a half feet by his estimate. He suddenly noticed that Mayra noticeably was warming up to him as she coolly began to smile at him.

"Even your NAME is appropriate! Layla!"

Mayra waved at Layla to get closer, as she cautiously walked over until she was within arm's reach.

"Brandon," Mayra began, placing one hand on his shoulder. "This is Layla."

"H-hi!"

"Layla," Mayra continued, placing her other hand on her shoulder. "This is Brandon."

"S-sup," Layla responded, trying her best to look as cool and indifferent as possible, only to pull off what looked like an adorkable attempt at flirting.

"Uh," Brandon stammered, not sure what words to use until he remembered the shirt that was still in his hands. "I got you the Knuxxx shirt you wanted? The red and black one, in a medium?"

"O-oh," Layla tittered. She could feel how strong her heart was beating, the butterflies in her stomach, the alcohol in her veins spurring her to say something, anything at all. "Th-thank you, Brandon!"

Layla gently lifted her hand to grab the shirt. Brandon could feel the gentleness in her caress, the calluses on her hand from both guitar and something else sliding across the top of his, calmly and lovingly holding his.

"Y-you didn't really NEED to-"

"This is taking too long!"

With gentle yet overwhelming force, Mayra quickly brought the two of them into intimate space. And with no more real distance between them, as the rest of the band cheered them on except for Alma simply smiling and nodding her head, the new fan and the new star embraced each other, and drew themselves into a kiss.

[champecm0316]

so thats it on the story? it ends with them embracing? not much of a story