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COME ON IN,
EXTRA, EXTRA!
NAVIGATION,
THE LEADING LADY & FRONTMAN
LISTEN UP,
C-BOX,
SPOTLIGHT,
FEATURED MALE !
FEATURED FEMALE !
FEATURED COUPLE !
I WOULD LIKE TO THANK,
Sidebar: Dana
Coding Help: RCR
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 1020 AM, open to a friend
| Evan Bancroft |
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Member
Group: Musician
Posts: 17
Member No.: 69
Joined: 1-July 09
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Every day was starting to feel like a struggle for Evan. Waking up turned into an epic battle between him and the rising sun, rolling out of bed a wrestling match between him and his covers, and putting the coffee on became a recipe for potential disaster. Astrologically, this must have been to be expected- though he couldn't remember why. Instead, he just tried to get over his mounting failures and get on with his day with as little catastrophe as humanly possible. His guitar was the mere solace in his life at this point- playing, composing, and writing lyrics seemed to be the only things that kept him living. His bandmates, too, he supposed, were to blame for his continued breathing, as raucous and irritating as they were sometimes, they kept him going with their vitality and energy. Groupies, however, were another story. Every day there was a new "superfan" that wanted to lay with the band, and Evan couldn't help but wonder if these girls were just loose on a lack of principle or for the dim possibility that they might snag a successful bandmember and never have to work a day in her life again. Vain, superficial, egotistical, narcissistic, pathetic women was what he saw. And every time he saw one of his friends with his arm around the small of a groupie's back, Evan merely turned his head away and went back to his music.
After all, that's what being in a band is supposed to be about.
The Northtown mall wasn't particularly where he wanted to be at the moment, but he figured that at eleven AM there couldn't possibly be any groupies crawling the place, and that it may be generally quiet overall. And seeing as how he needed that new Sex Pistols record anyway, he ended up being the scruffy haired, bearded guitarist poring over cartons of records.
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