Volterra Rocks! by bethaboo.pdf

Volterra Rocks!

By bethaboo

Edward is in Volterra, a rock band, with Emmett and Jasper, and they are about to go on tour. Bella, Alice, and

Rosalie are members of Twilight and join Volterra as their opening act. AU HUMAN. Originally by Bella-of-

the Ball, co-authored by Halojones

Chapter 1

BPOV

“Be careful with that! Don’t drop it!” I heard Alice yell these unnecessary words as I dutifully lugged the heavy

kick-drum, encased in a thick black storage case, onto the ramp of the white trailer.

“Trust me, Alice,” I managed to grunt between gasps of breath as I finally made my destination to the far end of

the trailer. “Do I really need to start keeping a tally of how many times I’ve taken your equipment in and out of

Walter for the past two years. I think I got the hang of it by now. Besides, I could have dropped that off the

Empire State Building and it would have survived, with all of the expensive casing you bought for your drums.”

Walter was our pet-name for our beloved trailer, of course. It was dented and marked with a large red apple on

its side, painted by Alice, so we could always identify it, like a member of our family.

“Sorry Bella,” Alice haphazardly apologized. “I can’t help but get paranoid when it comes to my babies,

especially Kitty!” The fact that Alice named each part of her five-piece drumkit as if they were her own

children seemed like an oxymoron to the testament of the female rock drummer. At 4’11” and short black spiky

hair, she seemed to look the part perfectly, but her bubbly personality proved to be the antithesis of rock

goddess angst. I couldn’t help but laugh at the paradox.

“Okay,” Rosalie joined us in the shade of the trailer as she rolled in her bass amp up the ramp. “Alice, will you

please hurry up and load your ‘kids’ into the trailer, and stop giving Bella a hard time? We need to get all this

equipment in within the next fifteen minutes, or we’re going to be late!”

The new time constraint seemed to be the key to lock Alice’s mouth shut and we worked diligently and

efficiently to get everything in: mics, amps, and instruments. I stepped back to lift the ramp and rolled it inside

of the trailer. Alice hopped down from Walter, just as Rosalie jumped up to grab the handle and pulled the door

down, locking everything up at last. We dusted off our hands as we made our way to the bright red truck that

Walter was connected to. It was my truck, but Rosalie always insisted on driving, so I climbed into the

passenger side, to sit between Alice and Rosalie on either side of me as we headed to our next gig, where our

next performance would determine our future.

We sat in silence for about ten minutes as we each let the realization of what was at stake tonight settle in. The

occasional clicking of the turn signal and Alice’s fingers drumming on the dashboard were the only noises to

fill the silence besides my erratic heartbeats which felt like they echoed throughout the small space of the truck

we sat in.

“Shit.”

“What?” I looked at Rosalie as a response to her short 4-letter statement. “Did we forget something?”

“Yes…” She paused as she pulled down the mirror on the visor in front of her. “Make-up. I look like hell.”

I rolled my eyes. As if it were conceivably possible for Rosalie to deviate from perfection when it came to her

flawless appearance. Who needed makeup anyway, when you had beautiful blonde hair and her figure? I was

about to open my mouth to say so, when Alice beat me to it. “Rosalie, don’t be ridiculous. You look perfect, as

always. But, if you’re really worried, don’t fret, because you know Alice is always prepared!” She cried out

joyfully as she pulled out an entire 7-pocket roll-up bag full of every cosmetic item known to woman.

The next few minutes of our drive proved to be somewhat frightening as Rosalie and Alice reached over and

around me, non-stop, while both used numerous wands and applicators to put finishing touches on their already

beautiful faces. Before I could remind Rosalie to keep her eyes on the road and both hands on the steering

wheel, I felt a gooey substance on the top of my lip. I turned to my right, only to be nearly poked in the eye

with the plastic wand that held the pink gooey substance. “Alice! What the hell are you doing?! Do you know

how embarrassing it would be to have to wear an eye-patch to our gig because I got poked in the eye with a

tube of lipgloss?”

“Bella, Bella, Bella.” Alice was facing me now, with both legs folded under her as she kneeled on the seat

cushion. Her seatbelt was the only thing keeping her from maintaining a closer distance than she already was.

“Hold still. I think the tragedy lies in the fact that looking like a pirate would be a step up from your present

state.”

Ouch. “That wasn’t very nice,” I grimaced as I allowed Alice to have her way with my blank canvas of a face

as we approached another stop-light.

“Oh you know I’m just kidding. You’re beautiful, Bella. You know that. But part of what’s going to make us a

success tonight is to exude confidence from every pore of our being. And it wouldn’t hurt for you to add a little

extra ‘oomph’ to bring it out in you tonight.” Alice smiled as she feathered on a little bit of shimmering eye

shadow on my eyelids and sparkling blush on my cheeks. She adjusted the mirror on the visor in front of her so

that it faced me. “See?”

Hmm. It wasn’t a drastic change, but it made me see that Alice was right. I looked pretty…and I felt pretty….

and knowing that much would at least give me the extra boost of confidence I would need to impress the music

producers and agents tonight. “It looks good. Thanks, Alice.”

I could feel the nerves setting in as Rosalie made the turn into the parking lot of the venue we were performing

at tonight. I checked the mirror one more time to comb my fingers through my long brown hair. It was in loose

waves that framed my face and I recently cut bangs that hung low and were slightly parted to the side to give

more of an edge to my otherwise conservative hairstyle. I took a deep breath as I closed my eyes and exhaled.

This is what I loved to do more than anything in the world, and I wasn’t going to let a case of stage fright

prevent me from chasing my dreams.

I slid out of the passenger side of the car, thanking Alice for holding the door open for me. She didn’t hesitate

to hold me in a vice grip with her tiny arms, pulling out to maintain a similar hold with our hands as she jumped

up and down. “It’s going to happen! I can just feel it!”

I couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm, grateful for her presence to calm some of my nerves. I heard

Rosalie open the door to Walter a few feet behind us, and we followed the sound, hand in hand.

“Need a helping hand there, ladies?” I turned around to face the person who asked the question and internally

groaned at the sight of him. James. The lead singer of Red Eyes, a band with one Top 40 hit under their belt,

and suddenly they think they rule the world. They had a reputation for collecting groupies backstage by the

dozen and spreading diseases like wildfire. We’ve come across them every now and then, when they’ve

headlined local festivals our band also played, and James never failed to seek us out somehow, trying to dazzle

us with his so-called charm. It usually comes off super creepy than anything else.

“Uh…no…but thanks.” I tried to muster up as much of a smile as I could manage. I could see Alice trying to

hold off a laugh behind James as I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. “I think we’ve got a handle on it

here. We’re big girls.” The smile came a little easier this time as I took notice of the goofy faces Rosalie and

Alice were making, mocking James’ desperate attempt to unsuccessfully imitate James Dean with his red

leather jacket and dark jeans that he probably bought from the girls’ junior section at Macy’s.

James ran his fingers through his greasy blonde hair before he reached out to touch my cheek. Ew. I’m

definitely going to have to borrow Alice’s anti-bacterial gel later. “Well, I’m always available if you need a

hand, if you know what I mean…” He slowly waved his fingers in front of me as he looked my body up and

down to let me know that his implications went farther than just lifting heavy equipment. I choked back the

vomit that was threatening to rise up from my stomach and self-consciously placed my arms in front of my

chest.

“Mmmhmm.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’ll log that away. Thanks.”

He winked as he walked back with a sideways glance, before catching up to the rest of his band members, who

were already ogling Rosalie, who had just bent down to set another amp on the ground.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to how we’re treated as female musicians in this male dominated world of

music. It seems as though most people tend to write us off as typical girl groups who are just using our gender

and sexuality as a gimmick to get people to pay attention to us. It’s tiresome to deal with. Of course Alice and

Rosalie love the attention, and love being surrounded by so many attractive musician men, but I always found

most of these men to be condescending and arrogant. It’s changed a little, as we’ve gained notoriety and we’re

starting to finally be recognized as musicians rather than slabs of meat, but we face this sort of discrimination

almost anytime we’re introduced to a new audience. They’d rather look at us than listen to us. It also doesn’t

help that it’s been a constant battle with our manager, Tom, to let us wear what we want to wear, instead of low

cut shirts, short skirts, and platforms. I guess I just never wanted to give people a reason to think that my talent

can’t stand on its own.

I knew Tom would be livid when he saw my outfit. I liked to think that it was sexy in my own way, but

according to Tom, “No skin, no win.” Whatever that meant. I was wearing a large faded gray t-shirt over my

favorite dark skinny jeans and a pair of zebra-print pumps. My red camisole was poking out underneath my

shirt and the straps were showing, due to the fact that my t-shirt was strategically torn at the neck so that it

draped over one shoulder. I had long dangly metallic earrings that matched the heavy bracelet I was wearing. I

looked over to see where Alice and Rosalie had gone to and saw that they had already found admirers in a

group of guys who were standing around and smoking by the entrance. Who knows if Alice and Rosalie even

found these guys that attractive, but the aspect of flirting was their favorite pastime in and of itself. Right after

shopping and cars, respectively.

I sighed as I looked down and noticed that the cuff of my jeans had folded up around the ankles and bent down

to straighten them out.

“Nice pants. I can see myself in them.”

I let out a loud burst of laughter as I spun around to see who said this absurd pick-up line. Knowing this would

determine the answer to the question of whether I should slap him, or plant a big kiss on his cheek. “Jacob!!”

Definitely a kiss on the cheek. I wrapped my arms around him as he matched my embrace and lifted me up off

the ground. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

“Come on, Bella. You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Jacob spoke softly into my ear as he let me down

gently back to the ground. I stepped back to look up at his smiling face looming over me, providing me shade

against the glaring sun. His teeth gleamed white as he smiled for me, feeding me the warmth that I needed to

calm my nerves that were slowly but surely building up at an astounding rate. “You’re going to knock them

dead, and I want to be here to watch their jaws drop to the floor.”

I laughed as I rolled my eyes. “Whatever…” I never could help how embarrassed I was to receive Jacob’s

compliments. “I’m just glad you’re here. You wanna help me carry some of this stuff in?” I asked him as I

jumped into the back of Walter and rolled a large amplifier towards him.

“Woah.” He let out a short gasp of air as he picked up the amp and set it down on the ground to the side of him.

“I can’t believe you girls carry this stuff around as much as you do. These things weigh a ton.”

“You get used to it…” I let my voice trail off as I pushed another heavy black box his way. “Besides….who is

to say that there isn’t always some tall, dark, and handsome best friend to carry this stuff around for me?” I

laughed as Jacob responded with another short huff. “Lift with your legs. You’re going to pull a muscle, Jake.”

“Ooh—Too late.” He dropped the last box a few inches from the ground and grabbed the lower region of his

back as he slowly stood up. I could tell he was trying to hide his excruciating pain by the shade of red his face

was slowly turning, and I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “So—uh. You don’t mind if I go inside and get a

seat before all the good ones are taken, do you? I mean, I can keep helping you with this stuff if you want,

but…” He fumbled for the right words as I could tell he was trying to search for an excuse.

I smiled at his efforts, but it was harder and harder to keep from bursting into laughter. “Go, Jake. I’ll catch up

with you afterwards.” I shooed him away as he hobbled bowlegged through the double doors of the building’s

entrance.

“Bella, we’re going to start taking this stuff inside,” Rosalie called to me from the back entrance of the

building, as she held the door open for Alice, who was already making a mad run through the doors pushing

two amplifiers stacked on top of each other and Rosalie’s bass strapped to her back.

I nodded at them to confirm what I heard and reached back into the trailer. As I took my guitar case by the

handle, the last piece of equipment to unload from the truck, I swung it over the edge of trailer with all of my

strength, and heard a loud grunt not two feet away from me.

My eyes went wide in shock as I realized I just pummeled a man in the stomach with my guitar. I couldn’t see

his face as he was doubled over with his hands clutching his sides, but his hair was blonde and looked like

something out of a Vidal Sassoon commercial. “Ohmigosh! I am so sorry! I didn’t see you there! Are you hurt?

I mean, are you okay? Is there anything I can get you? I feel like such an idiot. I am so sorry—“

The man waved his arm in front of me to quiet me down but he was still doubled over in pain. I put my hands in

front of my mouth as I waited for him to slowly regain his composure. Good Lord, this man was handsome.

Well, for an older man. He took a few deep breaths as he leaned one hand to the side of Walter for support. He

finally let his eyes rest on me before he gave a small smile and said, “Don’t worry about it. I know it was an

accident.”

“It really was, but I should have been more careful where I was looking. I should have known better. I’m such a

klutz, so of course something would have happened. Something always does—“

He waved his arm again to stop my rambling and he chuckled softly as he let the laughter reach his blue eyes.

“No harm done. In fact, you should be quite proud of yourself. That was some force you hit me with there. You

could have chucked that right over the Great Wall of China!”

I smiled with relief that he really didn’t seem mad. “Well, if you’re sure you’re okay…”

“I’m fine. Let it be a lesson to me not to walk around beautiful girls and heavy objects.”

I smiled sheepishly as I watched him walk past me, giving me one more quick smile, and headed through the

double doors. Wait…. He wasn’t someone important, was he? Of course, he looked like someone who could

have a lot of money, a CEO of some record company, a big shot talent agent…. but maybe that was just his

undeniably good looks. I prayed a continuous silent prayer that the man I nearly beat up by accident was not a

record executive or agent. Mental note to self: Do not tell Alice or Rosalie what just happened.

I chanted the words “Please don’t let that ridiculously good-looking man I punched in the stomach with my

guitar be someone who will make or break my musical future… Please don’t let that ridiculous good-looking

man I punched in the stomach with my guitar…” over and over again as I locked up my truck and Walter and

had the last of our sound equipment inside the building. I looked up mid-chant and saw the sun was starting to

set and I paused to watch the beautiful colors of pink and gold splash across the already blue horizon. My gaze

slowly shifted back down to the earth when I saw something that suddenly made my heart flutter so fast, it

might as well have stopped altogether.

Edward Masen…. Edward Masen.

Edward Masen was standing less than fifty feet in front of me, getting out of a large tour bus across the street.

Edward Masen of ….Volterra.

Volterra was the band that has been one of my biggest musical inspirations of the last 3 years. I had their

posters on the walls of my college dorm and listened to their album, New Moon, ad nauseum, until I fell asleep

to the sound of Edward’s voice. I didn’t realize until now that the flawless pictures of the band I had pinned up

next to my twin bed didn’t do him any justice at all. Man, he was gorgeous.

I was still paralyzed in a state of shock as I watched him walk to the end of the bus as though he were moving

in slow motion. Just like out of a movie, the wind caught his hair just right, sweeping his long bronze locks out

of his amazing green eyes I felt I could spot even from a mile away. He reached up with one hand to comb his

fingers through his untidy hair, and it seemed so ironic that I was condemning James for this same gesture not a

few minutes ago. Edward far surpassed James Dean in the area god-like appeal, whereas James would have to

jump with arms held high to even scratch the surface. My eyes traveled down as I took in the rest of his lanky

body. He wore a tan blazer that fit snugly over the light green flannel shirt underneath that seemed to bring out

the color of his eyes even more than humanely possible. His dark jeans fit just right and I saw the gray color of

his worn Converse sneakers poke out underneath the torn hem of his jeans.

Still looking at his shoes, I noticed that he stopped in his tracks. I dared my eyes to make their way back up,

only to have my worst fears confirmed. He was staring right at me.

Shit oh shit oh shit oh shit shit shit… I turned on my heels and tried to ignore the fact that I had spent the last --

who knows how long-- staring at some man I didn’t know across the street. Not just any man… Edward F-ing

Masen! I felt my entire face blush crimson as I stumbled through the backstage entrance where Alice and

Rosalie were already waiting for me.

“Bella!” Alice yelled from the dressing room door. “Come on! Tom wants us to go over our set list right now!”

I cursed to myself again as I trotted towards the dressing room door in my high heels, ignoring the crass stares

in my direction from the countless brooding male musician faces I passed along the way.

EPOV

“Wow, Eddie.” I turned my head as Emmett slapped his hand on my shoulder and chuckled. “Looks like the

groupies have found you already. How do they do that?”

I rolled my eyes as I shook my head, watching the young brown-haired woman walk so fast into the building,

she probably didn’t realize she was going through the backstage entrance instead of the front double doors.

“They all work for the CIA, I’m telling you,” I responded as I turned back around to help unload the bus and

trailers of our equipment. Our appearance at this concert was supposed to be a secret. We were the special

guests among the 5 or 6 bands already slated to play tonight for the talent scouts and other important music

executives who were looking for new talent to sign onto their labels. We were already signed, but the grand

prize-winner would join our band on a 20-city tour across the country. Of course, somehow, even our “secret”

appearances never remain secret for long. I sighed. I suppose that there was bound to be people in that audience

who would recognize us anyway. I was hoping that whoever that girl was, she was also alone; although, I guess

I wouldn’t mind groupies so much if they all looked like her.

Ugh. Groupies. Brain-dead girls with the speech capabilities of a hyena who hyperventilated whenever you

were within a 10-mile radius. They didn’t care about our music so much as they cared about getting the

opportunity to say they slept with the lead singer of Volterra. And despite what the tabloids may have reported,

there was never any truth behind those words. I’ve never even had a proper girlfriend, much to the dismay of

many, due to the fact that I’ve been so committed to my music and have never gotten to know anyone of

substance long enough to hold my interest. I was glad for it. No distractions meant that I could focus on my

music, which is my first love anyway.

Plik z chomika:

Inne pliki z tego folderu:

Inne foldery tego chomika: