Ripple Effect Utena Tenjou, lead singer and guitarist of Crysanthium Ecstasy was currently flopped on the old beat up couch in the back stage prep area, relaxing after her band's latest performance. The other members of the band were scattered about the room on other chairs, sofas, and bean bag chairs, all of who were sweating and flushed. Outside, the sounds of the still wildly cheering crowd could be heard, and it made Utena fill with pleasure and pride. The pink haired band member glanced about her with a half cocked grin at the other five people in the room. They too grinned and nodded back, even shy Violet, but no one spoke. There was no need for words. The group lounged in the afterglow, soaking up the air conditioning and the praise from just down and across the hallway. Finally though, one of the drummers stood and called out cheerfully, "Hey guys, I'm gonna go and bust out those six packs we brought. Who all wants a beer?" "Yeah I'll take one, Lance." Eric, the female bass player called from the sofa arm on which she perched. Lance gave her a nod and put a gentle arm around black clad Violet, who was hunched in a heavily duct taped bean bag chair. "Hey, you want one Violet?" She gave a wordless shake of her head, and the taller man gave her a reassuring smile. Utena just raised her hand slightly to say she wanted one. Jared didn't even bother. Everyone knew the man liked his celebratory alcohol. Mason gave a nod and with that Lance left to go fill their orders. Eric stretched her arms over her head as Mason planted a kiss on her cheek. "Shit! We kicked ass tonight! That's gotta be our best concert ever!" There were noises of agreement about the room. "And man, I've never heard you sound so good Ten. I swear, every time you go on stage you get even better...it's damn eerie..." Eric shook her head in wonder. Utena, or "Ten" as she was known on stage gave a chuckle and a wave, "I couldn't have done as well as I did without Violet's keyboard playing. I nearly forgot my next line on the third set, and it was a good thing she was playing the melody." Violet blushed under the praise and looked down at the floor. Lance came back in, juggling several open bottles and began doling them out. Mason chuckled as he took his, but Eric just pushed her glasses back up the bridge of her nose in contempt. "Idiot...why didn't you just bring the whole six pack crate...For all I know you could've slipped a date rape drug in here..." Lance gave a burst of laughter, and Mason wrapped his tanned arms around his girlfriend. "I wouldn't have let him." He kissed her neck still smiling. Eric's frown turned into a lopsided grin, but she still had her eyebrow raised as she pushed the drummer away. "Whatever...you'd have taken advantage of the situation. "Probably." Eric laughed as he began tickling her under her ribs, arching his eyebrows. Jared rolled his eyes. "Get a damn room you two...bloody hell, it's enough to have to listen to you two duckies flirt all the time. I don't want to have the visual as well." Jared ducked as Eric's sneaker nearly caught his head. "Now now, see here chickie...violence only begets more violence! And besides, you nearly messed up my hair...it took me hours to get that perfect shade of blue you know..." Lance rolled his eyes in response. At that moment Brian Summers, Jared's father and the group's manager, walked in holding a stack of papers rolled tightly in his fist. His normally calm demeanor and tidy state of dress was flustered and askew with excitement. Mr. Summers ran a hand through his balding brown hair as he shook the rolled up document at them, broadly grinning. "You lot aren't going to believe this!" This got everyone's attention, and youthful bodies began sitting up in rapt attention. Even Violet looked up attentively instead of at the floor, huddled away nervously. Mr. Summers never barged in on them usually, preferring not to delve to deeply in his son's and his friends affairs. Preferring to help from the sidelines and just watch quietly. Seeing him here was unusual. "There was a recording company representative sitting in the pub tonight, a bloke who's a scout for Pelican Records. Says he thinks you guys are a major hit, and that his company wants to take you all on! I did some research on the company and it's stats...it's big...seriously big...and it's completely legit, if you can believe that. They've been heading several big namers and singers and bands across the country. And they want you horrible bunch to come in and record some cd. And...they're willing to pay BIG. I don't think I've seen so many zeros before without having a contract attached to it first..." Mason nearly tumbled the girl that was sitting dazed in his lap. But Jared did leap to his feet as did Utena. "Pops, are you serious?!" The older man gave a nod. "No lie...they're hard on to get your band to sign a contract on with them. They believe you could be the next big hit. There's been a meeting set up for you tomorrow so you can come in, visit the facilities, and talk more in depth. I'd like to go with you to make sure it all runs smoothly and what-not...that is if you don't mind an old man's advice on things..." Violet clapped her hands together in excitement, smiling broadly as Jared leaped across the room to hug his happy father, tears in both of their eyes. Utena gave a crow of triumph, and Mason and Lance both joined in, raising their bottles high. Eric just grinned and couldn't seem to stop, but was quickly taken into a huge bear embrace by Jared as he rounded the room shaking everyone's hands. The celebration lasted far into the night, with the band being sought out by the owner of the 'Horse and Saddle' who set out a round of drinks to the entire bar on the house. Violet, who was only eighteen and under the drinking age was given a shirley temple, but as Utena and the rest of the gang had no such legal issues, everyone was quickly and merrily sloshed. So it's no wonder that the next day they all nearly overslept past their set appointment. xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Tenjou Utena was feeling foggy headed and slightly ill as she nursed a strong coffee the next early afternoon in Mr. Summer's office. The plan was for the gang to meet there and car pool in his van to Pelican Records, a very impressive building from afar. Violet had been the first to arrive, shy with Jared and his father being left alone with them. Jared for his part was quite used to heavy drinking and looked practically chipper sitting there with a huge grin on his face. It only served to blacken the pink haired guitarist's mood as she choked down a handful of aspirin for breakfast. The others eventually showed up, all in various states of hangover recovery, and the young adults piled into their manager's van with dark complaints at the too brightly shining sun. Placing a pair of smoky dark wrap-around sunglasses over her eyes, and leaning her head back on the seat, in between Mason and Lance, she tried to ease the pounding in her head as they drove in relative silence. A few minutes later, she opened her eyes to find Violet watching her, her expression guarded. Raising an eyebrow and sitting up, Utena leaned through the press of male bodies to hit the radio and flipped on an oldies rock station. Jared, in the passenger seat, grinned and began mouthing the words to his band mates in the back, twisting his face comically as he serenaded them. His father reached around and whapped him on the back of his mohawk. "Damn it Jared! Turn around and put your ruddy seat belt on, or I'll hit the damn breaks you knuckle head!! You kids these days...liable to go flying out the dash and breaking your face on the pavement!" Jared growled and rubbed the back of his head, flipping his old man the bird. His father retaliated by swerving the car quickly in the lane, and was rewarded by a loud thunk as his son's head hit the passenger window. "Damn it Pops, you're gonna get us bloody killed!!" But he ended up putting the seat belt back on anyway. His friends chuckled at the exchange, but their nervousness was evident from their carefully neutral expressions. Even Utena, who was pretty well known for not really giving a damn about things one way or the other, was quiet in anticipation for the meeting to come. Would they really take them on? Was this their chance for fame and fortune? After an agonizing fifteen minute drive, where Brian Summers broke every speed record just to make it in time, they pulled into the parking lot of the enormous high-rise building with it's flashing silver emblem. After parking in the visitor's section, they walked in the front door, looking very out of place with the designer suits and top of the line fashion walking in and out. Lance and Mason self conciously kept tugging their shirts down and checking their hair in the glass reflections as they waited The rag tag group, who's attire ranged from black biker pants and chains, to a brightly colored mix-matched ensemble, to black long sleeved button coat and dark leggings, stood in front of the desk whose secretary looked at them expectantly. She was neatly dressed in a jacket and skirt, with a small gold pin on her lapel. "May I help you?" Mr. Summers, as smartly dressed as always, came to the front of the group and cleared his throat, "We have an appointment with Mr. Dimiccio." The secretary scanned her computer screen and smiled, "Ah yes, we have you right here. Please follow the hall to the right, and have a seat in the lounge area. He will be with you shortly." Mason gave a flirty little wave and was promptly punched in the arm by Eric as the group followed the secretary's directions and made their way over. They sat right outside a set of frosted glass doors with stylized pelicans on them. A small gold plate to the side of the doors read Dimiccio, Richard : Executive Producer. Some time later, the doors opened, and a middle aged man in a romani suit and glasses came out shaking another man's hand. The glasses man left, and the one remaining could only be Richard Dimiccio. He motioned to the group with a smile, and headed back inside the office, "Come on in everyone. I'm glad you came." He set them down in posh but fashionable red cushioned chairs in front of his spacious desk, then took a seat himself. He wore an open necked blue dress shirt and black slacks, his light colored hair swept back and neat. He seemed a bit young at first, but his gestures hinted at cunning and intelligence. He wasted no time in proposing. "I'm sure you're surprised to be here, it's certainly a bit far from the bar you have been playing at up until now. But quite frankly our scout was surprised at the amount of raw talent and ability you demonstrated, and after listening to a small copied portion of your music I was inclined to agree. We here at Pelican Records are always keeping an eye out for new upcoming talent, so we frequently take on several no-name bands and eventually raise them up to chart status." He leaned forward, an intense look on his face, "But I have to say...listening to a recording of you all...I think you could be big. You're music is fresh, the lyrics are cutting edge, and you seem to have a fairly diverse group. You aren't cliché. And with a little polish and a few recordings made, I think we might have the next Steel Razors. Lance gave a low whistle, the Steel Razors were a mega watt band that was currently touring the country with sold out shows wherever they went. They were on the news and in magazines everywhere. Even Eric found it hard to remain sullen and skeptical, dreams of grandeur were beginning to set in for all of them. Seeing his audience captivated, he turned to Jared's father, and began outlining his ideas and the contract he planned to settle with Crysanthium Exctasy. Utena found it hard to follow all of the in depth discussion, but Mr. Summers looked pleased with the outcome, when the shook hands and Mr. Dimiccio turned to address the group as a whole. "That's that then...simply look over these documents, and sign where it's appropriate, and we'll give you a tour of our studios. I'd like to start recording you all as soon as possible. Which one of you is Ten?" Utena looked up from her musings and looked the man in the eye. He gave her a smile and an appreciative nod. "Yes...with your voice and your band's outstanding playing, I see great things for you all." Utena said nothing, simply brushing a hand through her short spiked pink hair. The next few months seemed to fly past in a blur, as the band signed on with Pelican records and began the process of recording and releasing their records. And just as Mr. Dimiccio predicted, they were an instant success. Crysanthium Exctasy soon found itself blazing up the charts with their number one single Hold Up. Their first cd sold out with record sales, and it was quickly being eaten up over the internet by foreign listeners. Concerts were scheduled and played through, each with a bigger turn out than the last, and merchandise became available. As their popularity and fame grew, so did their wallets. Eric was able to finally pay off her parents mortgage and buy them a decent home, moving out to live with Mason. Utena payed off her student loans and was able to set out money for a condo, while Violet bought her very own car. Their second cd came out two months after their first one, entitled Caged Discovery. Several boys began sporting Jared's mohawk, and fan mail started pouring in. Eventually, under the supervision of Pelican Records, their music was released overseas to Germany and Japan. And it was there in Japan, while driving about in her sleek white sports car, that a dark skinned beauty turned on her radio to suddenly have a hauntingly familiar voice croon in her ear. And when you're glancin' at reflections, tradin' glasses for contacts, Following the crowd for your redemption, goin' down a path you can't travel back: Hold up!! The violet haired woman hit her breaks as she almost rear-ended the car in front of her. Pulling off to the side, she stared entranced ahead as the sounds of the one she had been searching for, rolled across her ears like smooth velvet. "I've found you at last..."
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