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[b][code]Beach Festival Backstage.[/code][/b]
[hr]
After a [i]very[/i] productive morning and early afternoon, Chrissy was in her room, flicking through various social media apps when the sound of Aunt Jess rummaging around in the kitchen made her blood run cold.

[i]Oh no,[/i] she thought, jumping out of her seat and sprinting outside.

In the kitchen, Chrissy's great-aunt was setting something into the microwave. Chrissy couldn't see what it was, but Aunt Jess could [i]not[/i] be trusted with anything even remotely related to cooking. "Aunt Jess, what are you doing?" Chrissy hollered, running over to the microwave just in time to stop her great-aunt from turning it on.

Aunt Jess blinked at Chrissy from behind her glasses. "Just making tea," she said, and Chrissy glanced inside the microwave (why Aunt Jess was trying to microwave tea leaves, Chrissy wasn't sure, but...)

Sure enough, there was a mug, presumably filled with cold water and a tea bag. And...ah. 

Chrissy plucked the spoon out of the mug. "I swear to god, Aunt Jess, you're going to kill us all someday," she grumbled under her breath, putting the spoon back into the cabinet.

Aunt Jess gave her a bewildered look. "What was that, dearie? Can you speak up?"

Chrissy let out a long-suffering sigh. "Nothing, Aunt Jess. Nothing at all."

*****

Later that afternoon, Chrissy and her great-aunt piled into her rental car and headed off towards the festival. Normally, Chrissy would have avoided that kind of event-the thought of all that corny festival stuff made her want to puke-but the mayor [i]had[/i] invited Astrid Storm, also known as Sylvia Bertoose (the poor girl had a [i]very[/i] unfortunate name, in Chrissy's opinion. It was no wonder she took on a stage name), and well...Chrissy went where the celebs were, is all she could say. 

Chrissy was pretty up-to-date on this Astrid girl; she still looked like a pastel goth scene girl from 2008 who used 'rawr' and 'XD' and ':3' unironically. Gross. Didn't these people know that Avril Lavigne racoon eyes were [i]so[/i] ten years ago???? Her music was also pretty annoying, in Chrissy's opinion; she'd had enough of white boy frat party music after one year of college, thank you very much.

But anyway, maybe she'd be able to find something she could turn into a story. Money didn't grow on trees, after all.

Chrissy pulled into the parking lot designated for the festival, muttering profanities under her breath at the complete lack of open spots. "You'd think that there wouldn't be anywhere with worse parking than L.A. Guess you'd be wrong," she grumbled to herself, deciding that she didn't give enough fucks to drive around the city like a headless chicken for an open spot and opting to squeeze the car into a tiny sliver of space between another car and the curb. Okay, so it wasn't an actual designated spot, but it was, uh, probably semi-legal? Right?

"C'mon, Aunt Jess, let's go," Chrissy said, stepping out into the blazing sunlight. She squinted, letting her eyes adjust to the light before giving herself a quick once-over with a compact mirror. Everything looked fine, from her high ponytail to her glossy, cherry-pink eyeshadow (which matched her sparkly pink platform heels). 

Once they were inside the festival, Chrissy left Aunt Jess with some of her friends from Sunday night bingo or whatever and took one of the flyers advertising Astrid Storm's performance. [i]Hmm, so it won't be for a little while. Wonder what she's up to right now?[/i]

Chrissy glanced at the time. [i]Probably too early for her to be backstage already. Which leaves the tourbus, I guess?[/i]

Shrugging, Chrissy headed in the general direction that she thought the tourbus would be in. [i]Back to the parking lot, I guess. Damn.[/i]

[hr]

It was quite busy for the performance for the famous singer Astrid Storm... they were trying to get everything set up. Meanwhile, in the tourbus, there was a celebration of the singer's own coming up... in a white hummer. As it approached; a group of about four people including Johnny, Gabriela, Jake and Jaska Valos stepped out and walked up to the door where there was a burly bouncer keeping watch with his arms crossed. The chubby bastard was shorter than Johnny! Speaking of which Johnny gave him a cocky smile as he approached, and kept his hands on his pockets as the bouncer said.

"Sorry, Astrid said no visitors, no autographs," The bouncer said.

"Well, [i]'Astrid'[/i] invited us in for a quick visit," Johnny tilted his head as he replied.

"I said no, she don't want no visitors,," Was the only response from the bouncer, "Now ge-"

"PATRICK!" Astrid shouts could be heard from inside the bus, and Patrick looked back to see Astrid's face pressed against the glass. "FUCK OFF ALREADY! THEY'RE COOL!"

Patrick grumbled as he stepped to the side and Johnny couldn't help but send a toothy grin his way that was more powerful than any middle finger. Fucker better know his place! Either way Johnny stepped past him and opened up the door to the tour bus and stepped inside. And the first sight was a sight he hadn't seen in years; his sister. You see, after their time in the Academy Sylvia managed to convince Gabe and Jake to help her become a star! All while Johnny tried to become the next Vito Corleone! Well, better luck next time. His sister was wearing boxers and a t-shirt with her hair done and straight. She was sitting on the couch with her legs crossed and playing on her phone.

"Sylvia! Long time no see!" Johnny said as he put his arms out for a hug.

"Sup motherfucker," Sylvia said as she didn't even lift her head up from her phone. "Ya' got any weed?"

"Love you too, sister..." Johnny groaned as he looked off to the side. "Yeah, we smoked it all before we got here."

"The fuck?!" Sylvia shouted. "How could you do this to meeeeeee?" She asked. 

"Jaska's afraid of heights," Johnny said, and Jaska confirmed with a nod. "And we had to calm his nerves somehow!" 

"Besides," Gabe injected, "You're about to perform, you need a clear head."

"That's why I need it."

"How the hell did you end up performing in this dump anyway?" Johnny asked as he looked around. "Last time I checked the mayor told us never to return here."

"And last I checked," Sylvia started off, mocking her brother, "We don't listen to chucklefucks." She cracked a grin.

Sylvia shrugged as she leaned back in the couch, "Besides, I go where the music takes me - mayor asks for a famous singer to come and then I answer it. Call it [i]fate[/i]."

"Well, I at the very least, hope fates gets us some good weed!" Johnny said as he took a seat down next to Sylvia.

While they were talking, the most silent of the group; Jaska Valos, had his ears wide open. He didn't have much to say, but his ears perked up when he heard a foreign sound outside; separate from Patrick, right behind him. It sounded like someone walking up and he knew what to do. He leaned forward and whispered to the group, "There's someone outside."

"Oh shit, another pervert!" Sylvia damn near shouted. "Johnny, go out there and-" She was cut off when Johnny put fingers up to her lips.

"Shush, stupid," Johnny silenced his sister. "They're gonna get spooked and do something stupid." 

His instincts quickly kicked in and he took control of the situation. This wasn't the first time somebody set their eyes on the Valos family, but thanks to Johnny he made sure every attempt was either a complete failure, or their last. The latter was preferable given how it simply ties up any loose ends. But, even if it was just some drunk asshole off wandering he wanted to make sure, because safe than sorry. Especially when there's three of his siblings nearby. Call it paranoia, but there was a saying that Johnny liked...

... You're only paranoid when you're wrong.

"Keep talkin', we don't want them to get suspicious," Johnny quietly said, "I'm gonna snuff this mothafucka out." He slowly got up and walked out the door.

"Okay motherfucker," Sylvia tried to force cheer to try not to sound creeped out right now, "So about that time I leaked my nudes by accident... 

Then they proceeded to talk as Johnny reached into his coat and pulled out his revolver that he had hidden in his suit. The metal object felt heavy in his hands, and he kept it in his hands as he gave it a brief twirl before he quickly walked around the tourbus. He hoped that he didn't tip them off; what he wanted to do was catch them red handed. A lot of people will start talking when they're looking down the barrell of a pistol. Eventually he turned the corner and caught their little pervert red-handed! And it was actually quite a surprise.. instead of some shithead sent from the mafia or somebody getting ready to become very intimate with a bottle of lotion, it was some cute little Asian thing in all pink. Honestly, the girl needs to, you know, vary her colors - because that's basic fashion - but everything else about her was just so alluring. Shit, he had to make a good first impression... which a instument of instant death didn't make. And in a display of his quick hands he hid it in the back of his waistband as he gave her a warming smile.

"Oh, hey there," He said smoothly, "Whatcha' doin' snooping around this poor girl's tourbus? Wanted an autograph? Heh."

Chrissy was trying to figure out how the [i]hell[/i] her five-foot-two ass (okay, five-seven with her heels, but still) was going to get a peek into the tourbus through one of the windows high up on the sides of the bus, when some dumb brick meathead-looking guy came out from the side. At first, she thought he was security, given the fact that he was probably five times as big as she was and wearing a suit, but then he opened his mouth.

Johnny Valos. AKA the playboy son of one Jason Valos, a business tycoon who'd first risen to prominence through...[i]questionable[/i] means. His son had gotten himself mixed up with the wrong people in New Orleans, was the last Chrissy had heard of him. He was no A-lister, nor was he Astrid Storm, but Chrissy would take what she could get.

When he began to talk, Chrissy resisted the urge to roll her eyes, not particularly impressed by the guy in general ([i]how[/i] do you get as rich as the Valos do and still fuck up your life? That would always be a mystery to her), instead plastering the sweetest smile she could muster onto her face. "As a matter of fact, yeah. An autograph would be pretty nice."

Subtle, Chrissy was not. Oh, well. It wasn't like she was lying-there were people her contacts knew, back in L.A., who'd pay a month's worth of rent for Astrid's autograph. 

Reaching into the mini pocket of his vest, Johnny produced a pen, "Where would you like me to sign?" He jokingly (well, half jokingly) asked.

Chrissy was a bit incredulous-just how big was the size of Johnny's ego? What was he compensating for, huh?-before shrugging and producing a pad of sticky notes. "Here's good. While you're at it, would you mind getting Astrid Storm? I'm a big fan, and getting her autograph too would be [i]super[/i] nice," she said, keeping the smile plastered to her face. 

Johnny's power worked amazingly in situations like this. While he seldomly used it in favor of pure skill baby, he found it useful for reading people.... in situations like this. Her aura was more of an annoyed, disguisted, color and Johnny could feel the power radiating off of it. He had a [i]hunch[/i] that her insistence to meet with 'Astrid Storm' wasn't because she's "a big fan". Johnny still kept that cocky grin on his face as he signed down on the notepad:
    
[b][code]𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓷𝓷𝔂 𝓥𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓼[/code][/b]

He gave it back to her before saying, "Make sure you keep that somewhere safe, it's real valuable now." Before giving her a wink. Now that he knows a tad bit about how she's not really digging him... das cool. Not a lot of chicks dug him at first but once he got 'im in bed they were screaming his name! Still, he was hesitant about bringing Sylvia out to meet Pinkie Pie here, she might try to John Lennon her. "As for Astrid, she's busy getting dressed for the performance and you don't want to bother her now - her big show's gonna be in a few!" Maybe she'd get the hint.., maybe not, but Johnny was judging her reaction first.

Chrissy suppressed a long-suffering sigh and took the autograph from him. "Yep. Definitely. Thanks."

When Johnny mentioned that Astrid wasn't to be bothered, Chrissy frowned, slightly. Well, that was to be expected. "Aw, really? D'you think I could just say hi, then? It'll only take two seconds," Chrissy replied, crossing her fingers behind her back. Even if she could only get a quick peek into the tour bus, Chrissy was sure she could make a story out of it....and if not, well, she could always write something about how Astrid and Johnny were secretly hooking up with each other, or whatever. It honestly wasn't [i]that[/i] implausible, now that she thought about it-Johnny seemed like the kind of guy who tried to flirt with anything that moved, and Astrid wasn't exactly, uh, [i]conservative[/i], either, what with those nudes of her that leaked a little while back.

"So? How about it? Pretty please with a cherry on top?"

"Well..." So it seems that Pretty in Pink here was persistent. Well so was Johnny. If she wasn't going to take the hints - well, Johnny had to take drastic measures then. "Well, I'm pretty close to Astrid, so I [i]could[/i] get you that autograph and more - hell, I could get her to spit in your mouth if you'd like!" Johnny chuckled at his own joke as he got closer to the mystery girl, as he continued, "But, for me to do something for you, you gotta do something for me... If you catch my drift?" It was a win-win for Johnny; she'll either slap him and walk away or he'll be eating Chinese tonight! 

And Johnny loves Asian food.

Chrissy crossed her arms, giving Johnny a skeptical look. [i]Is he implying what I think he's implying?[/i] she wondered to herself, incredulously. [i]God. That's gross.[/i]

"Be more specific," Chrissy answered coolly, praying for a juicy direct quote to use in her next column, if nothing else. Either way, this was...a potential story. 

Seems like the number one fan wasn't too big on the whole subtle interference thing... but Johnny noticed a change in her emotions. It was more of an intrigue, and curiousity. That made Johnny a tad bit curious, but he went along with it. "Airhead, you know [i]exactly[/i] what I'm talking about - or maybe you ain't hear about what the lengths these so-called "Numbah-one fans" go to to get an autograph, baby!"

Chrissy couldn't believe that this guy was [i]for real[/i], but...

"Okay. So you're saying that you, Jonathan Valos, want to have sex with me, in exchange for Astrid Storm's autograph. Am I correct?"

"I mean a handjob would suffice but yeah."

[i]Perfect.[/i] "Great. Nice talking to you, Mr. Valos." Chrissy tilted her head to the side, considering him. She decided to take the risk of Johnny knowing what line of business she was [i]actually[/i] in (hint: it had very little to do with fangirling), and gave him a smug smile. "So would you rather have me print something about the son of the mighty Jason Valos asking for a handjob in exchange for an autograph, or will you let me talk to Astrid myself?"

[i]Either way, I can spin something out of both things,[/i] she mused to herself. [i]What should I title it? Something like, 'Son of Jason Valos asks for sexual favors in exchange for an autograph'? Nah, that's too many words. I'll come up with something later. Maybe I'll throw in something about an 'underage fan'? Because let's face it, I look twelve. Might as well take advantage of it[/i]

Johnny shrugged as he observed the girl's attitude change to smugness. Unwarrented smugness. This dumb bitch thinks she got the great Johnny Valos by a rope? Bitch please! Ain't no strings on Johnny Valos! She's going to leave here disappointed, with what's of her ego in pieces as she runs off! He grinned.

"I meean," Johnny flatly said, "I got all sorts of shit on the newpapers - socliting some broad that was called a dyke a few too many times will be the least of my concerns, baby!"

Though, after thinking about it - if he was going to be spending some time here; he'd rather not have his face on the papers, or whatever the hell this bitch was threatening. Because he has a looooong list of people he pissed off, and a few of them are willing to go the distance to get even. So, he knew that Pretty in Pink wasn't going to bite; so what the fuck was she good for? 

"So, either you start tuggin' or you get your Pretty in Pink ass outta here - or I'm busting a cap in it."

Chrissy shrugged nonchalantly. It was not an ideal response, but she'd been through this before (unsurprisingly, she and her colleagues got a ton of bullshit, being in the line of work that they were in)...and [i]that[/i] was an excellent direct quote. Oooh, maybe she could call this an exclusive. There weren't any other reporters around, after all, so for all intents and purposes, it technically [i]was[/i] an exclusive. That's how it works, right? Right.

"Alright. Cool. See ya around. And you know, next time you try to get laid, maybe be less of an asshole about it?" she gave him an amused grin. "Can't wait to see Astrid on-stage. Tell her I said hi." 

"Whatever, bitch." Johnny answered.

Chrissy shrugged one more time, spun on her sparkly five-inch heels, and headed in the direction she'd come in, whipping out her phone and quickly noting down what Johnny had said. [i]Lemme see. Oooh, 'a handjob would suffice' was pretty good. Damn, I deserve a raise. Andrew doesn't pay me enough for the stuff I dig up.[/i]

Well that was weird.

Johnny merely shrugged and the window opened and Sylvia poked her head out of it, "Who the fuck was that?" She asked.

"I don't know, some weirdo, asked to meet you, threatened me with fame, baby! But I got rid of her." 

"She was probably another super fan - wait, did you ask her if she had any weed?!" Sylvia damn near shouted to the heavens.

"Sylvia, keep it down!" Gabe piped in, looking around at all the people nearby.

"No, I didn't ask her that," Johnny shook his head.

"Why not?" Sylvia asked, "I woulda; totally let her in if she shared some. Woulda; signed her titty, too."

Johnny sighed.

"... You're a mess."