Free Hot Southern Mess (Hide Your Crazy) by T.A. Hardenbrook

with you, something makes me want to resurrect it.”
    Something had to give between us, or I might self-combust from sheer adulterous lust.
     
     
    I hurried the boys off the bus and into the arena, and then scampered over to the other bus, desperate for a change of clothes and my toothbrush. Punching in the code to get onto the bus, I hurried over to my bunk and tore through a small bag I left there last night. Thankfully, I put a clean pair of jeans and a simple black tank top in the bag, as I refused to walk around tonight in my black skinnies and a crop top. I wasn’t a groupie and didn’t want anyone to confuse me with those sluts.
    Swiftly , I plastered another layer of makeup on my face and raked the toothbrush over my teeth for a few minutes. There wasn’t much I could do for my already wrecked hair, thus throwing it up into a short stubby ponytail was my only option; placing a few bobby pins on the sides to keep some of the shorter pieces back.
    Apparentl y I didn’t pack any clean socks. Refusing to put on last night’s again, I grabbed my black flip flops from my bag and raced out the door. Looking at my cell, I realized it only took ten minutes to make myself somewhat presentable. Hopefully, Stephanie wouldn’t be looking for me yet.
     
     
    Flashing my badge to get in backstage, I wandered the hallway looking for Stephanie. It was still shocking to see how many people it took to put on this show, not to mention how they managed to pull it off night after night on this level.
    “Hey Tiny, have you seen Stephanie?” I yelled down the hallway.
    “Yeah , she is in with Political Downfall,” he hollered back, pointing to a closed door down the way a little bit.
    “Thanks,” I waved back and headed for the door. I was about to reach for the handle, when the door suddenly flew open.
    “Where have you been? I have to deal with a couple things; can you handle the situation in there?” Stephanie questioned, still holding her cell phone up to her ear. I could tell she was irritated; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize this woman’s mood swings.
    “Uh……….sure?”
    Stephanie waved me off and stormed down the hallway, shouting at the pour soul on the other end of the line. She was the type of woman you didn’t cross, and if for some reason you ended up on her bad side, you basically sold what remaining parts of your already blackened soul to the devil to get out of it.
     
    Sticking my head in the door was like walking into the gates of hell. Shouting, screaming, and I think that was a beer bottle that just flew across the room. This is going to blow balls.
    “Hey,” I shouted loudly into the room, hoping to get the attention of the pissed off and testosterone filled man chil dren flailing about. The four man band didn’t even acknowledge my presence as they continued to throw the obvious temper tantrum happening.
    “HEY,” I shouter louder, finally catching the eyes of one of the guys. My stomach plummeted when his steel grey eyes pierced into mine. For a moment the room stood quiet, not a single sound registered in my ears. This man held my attention with just a glance, holy mother of pearls . My mind went blank, and my mouth dropped open. I already had to fight my urges for Reid; what were the odds it would happen again? Apparently I was on a lucky streak, if one considered lusting after two different men lucky.

Chapter 8: I need my own damn whistle.
     
    The grey eyed man broke the stare and it instantly snapped me out of the daze he had created. Right back into the yelling and screaming.
    “SHUT THE HELL UP!” I had enough of their bickering. I had no clue who any of these guys were, other than they all belonged to the band Political Downfall, and if I didn’t get them to stop they would no longer be the opening act for Black Laden. “Seriously, what in the world are you guys fighting like little girls about?”
    “Who in the hell are you?” A tall, scrawny emo looking guy