Based on Banner Entry 18
Word Count 1000
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
She was loud.
Of all the bands I'd followed on tour, hers was the loudest.
She was full of anger and poison, with an attitude and general bitchiness that was harsh enough to make a grown man cry - I knew this from experience.
The embodiment of sex, drugs, and rock and roll - on stage, she looked like she avoided showers like the plague, and yet she still managed to smell like oranges, and pot, and girl, and the ocean.
Her jeans always looked like they'd been painted on, and the few times I'd seen her become drunk enough to try and convince everyone to get naked, she always had to ask for help to peel them off. I was lucky enough to experience that a time or two as well.
Sometimes she was a mess, but any other time she was the strongest and most driven person I'd ever met.
Music was her life. Not the fans or the awards, not the money or the booze and drugs. She lived and breathed rock and roll.
She was destined to be a star from the womb.
My brother, Emmett, a highly sought after producer, heard her playing one evening at an open-mic night in one of Seattle's seediest bars.
Seventeen and angry over the recent death of her parents to a drunk driver, followed by her subsequent emancipation, she was already a high school drop out and stripping on the side to make ends meet until her father's pension check and life insurance payouts came through.
Emmett knew that she would be a rock goddess one day, and when that happened he wanted to be there - to be the one to take credit for the discovery, to have it all documented when she'd eventually be featured on VH1's Behind the Music. He wanted it so much, he snuck the invasion of her privacy into her contract.
Sadly, I realized he was exploiting her, and by the time it was too late, she had too.
For this fact, she resented my presence while I resented my brother.
I was twenty-two, wide-eyed - fresh from film school. After hearing her demo, I was thrilled to be working with her. That is, until I met her.
She made every effort to piss me off or act like a spoiled rotten bitch when the camera was on, and ignored me when it was off - unless she was drunk.
At first I let it get to me. I'd try to reason with her, or calm her down, only to retreat to my hotel room so I could simply avoid her tantrums. Mostly, I left to protect my camera from projectile beer bottles.
She was atrocious, but she was stunning.
The tour led us to Minneapolis and to our first sold-out show. Word was spreading about Bella Swan and her band 'Hard Candy' even though their album had yet to be released.
The previous night's sound check had gone perfectly, even though Bella's biting wit seemed to be missing it's usual sting. She'd been strangely silent for most of the day and hadn't even put up a fight when I'd filmed her tuning up in her dressing room.
I figured I was pushing my luck by even mentioning it, but she stunned me by agreeing to let me ask her a few questions.
Her answers were generic and distracted as if she was on auto-pilot.
I knew something was wrong, but I wasn't sure if I was willing to risk her wrath to figure it out. I didn't mention it and thanked her for the interview before slipping back to the hotel for a much needed nap.
I was awakened a few hours later by a call from my brother.
He was panicking. That was new.
Bella was missing.
The band had been calling him acting frantic - stating that she'd left in the middle of rehearsal. She had apparently excused herself to use the bathroom but then never returned.
I scrubbed my hand over my face anxiously and agreed to find her.
Something wasn't right.
Was fame getting to her?
Was she tired of maintaining the bitch persona?
I had too many questions and too few answers.
Before I could ponder the enigma that was Bella Swan any further, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of sobbing emanating from the room next-door.
Bella had returned to the hotel and now she was crying.
I was at her door before I could even consider what a bad idea it probably was to even attempt to reach out to her.
I knocked and mentally kicked myself for being stupid enough to think she'd consider opening it, but she surprised me yet again.
She stood there in her ripped t-shirt, the ever present skin-tight jeans, and trails of mascara staining her cheeks.
My heart ached to see her so broken. I was willing to offer my head up as a target for her beer bottles, just so I could see that spark of life back in her eyes.
In that moment she looked every bit the scared seventeen year old that she was.
I pulled her into my arms and she let me - practically melting into my embrace.
She admitted that today was the one year anniversary of her parents death and that she'd been so distracted lately that she'd almost forgotten, and with the tour happening, she was left with no time to visit their grave.
Despite Emmett's threats to shun me, I booked Bella and me the last flight of the day to Seattle and drove her to the cemetery where her mother and father had been laid to rest - where I held her.
There was nothing I could have done to stop this.
My job was to film her rise to fame.
Falling in love wasn't part of the plan, but as I comforted her while she cried, I couldn't find it in me to regret letting it happen.
A/N I hope like my little drabble. I doubt I will continue this so I am marking it complete, but you never know... :)
Let me know what you think and if you get a chance please head over to TwiFicPics(dot)com and vote May 27th to 28th