Drummer In High Heels

Abby Rhodes

 

Dave was right, it wasn't very far to the club and there was no sign on the door. If we didn't have the address we would never have known there was anything there at all. The door was locked but there was a button set to the side glowing a dull red. Xenon pushed it and the door opened. The lady standing there had blue hair and was at least sixty-five, fat, and dressed in a skin-tight black leather dress with a multitude of grommets, straps and bits hanging off (the dress, that is). The overall effect was alarming.

"Groupies?" was all she said.

"No, we're a group," I said. "Dave …… said to come down after we finished playing at the House of Blues. We're called "Touch My Butt and You're Dead."

"Good name. Come on in girls, we could do with a bit of colour. My, aren't you all pretty. I could quite fancy you myself. I'm Marge."

She stood aside and waved us through. The dim passageway opened onto a large room set up with a major bar and dozens of large comfortable couches and chairs set in groups and bar stools set around tables of various sizes as well. One of those tables was occupied by a metal band whose name you would know immediately and who were starting to slump forward over a multitude of empty beer and tequila bottles. Since most of them were now in their late forties and early fifties I assumed they weren't handling late nights and excessive drink like they used to. Their singer looked up and saw us, perked up for a moment, then resumed the slumped position. Heavy metal takes its toll.

There were already quite a few people in the room, mainly guys, and several immediately leapt up to offer us seats. In fact, they swarmed towards us. Seconds later we had drinks in our hands and were being asked deep and searching questions – Do you always wear such short skirts? Is your boyfriend the jealous type? Are you an Aries? – by people we recognised, some famous, some from earlier in the evening at the HOB and a few total strangers.

I found myself cornered by a hippie (I thought they were all dead) who claimed to be a Grateful Dead (I thought they were all dead as well) and possibly he was, but we were interrupted by Marge who was standing on a table and who bellowed across the room for everyone to shut the fuck up.

"Listen, you worthless pieces of clapped out shit. The girls who just joined us call themselves "Touch My Butt and You're Dead". I know some of you caught them earlier just down the road. Please be advised that a couple of them take their name seriously, so be very careful. Welcome to the Club, girls. You pay for drinks as you go, no tabs, but I'll bet you a jelly donut you never have to buy your own drinks with this bunch of social misfits and psychopaths around. Enjoy. One piece of information for everyone in the room, which you should take on board – it's 2005, not 1976. Some of you aren't coping."

She grinned and climbed down off the table. There were grumbles from several directions.

My hippie started to speak again but stopped abruptly and looked past me with his mouth hanging open. I turned to find Dave standing next to me.

"Hey, Alysa. Is this guy bothering you?" He was grinning as he took the hippie's hand and shook it.

"Good to meet you" he said. "I hear you guys might try a tour sometime soon?"

"Depends on whether we can get enough of the right chemicals, Dave. It takes a lot to get us moving these days. Also, people keep dying, so it's looking dubious."

"Bummer," said Dave. "Look, I promised Alysa I'd buy her a drink. Do you mind if I take her away?" He didn't wait for an answer and took me by the arm and led me over to a corner.

"Glad you could make it, Alysa." Dave waved in the direction of the bar and the barman was there in seconds, totally ignoring the people already queued up waiting for drinks. Obviously fame has some perks. Dave looked at me and I said, "Michelob". Dave said, "Wild Turkey, ice." The guy ran across the room and was back in a world record time with the drinks and waved away the cash Dave pushed toward him. So much for cash bar, no tabs.

"Isn't Marge wonderful? She was here the night the place opened and I'm not sure she's been home since then. Some of us look on her as a mother figure, which is okay if you don't mind your mother looking like Vincent Price."

I laughed, partly from nervousness. "It would take someone like her to keep the room in line, Dave." I was nervous because, as I noted earlier, I believed Dave was interested in me as a girl, and because I wasn't a girl, I was nervous. Very simple, very straightforward. I tried to remember if Dave already had a girlfriend and I couldn't be sure but I had a vague idea I'd read about a recent break-up. It was lucky I'd been drinking or I'm sure I might have been a lot more nervous, but I really had to either wait and see where he was going with me or break it off before it got started.

The funny thing was that I found Dave incredibly attractive and the urge to wait and see what happened was quite strong. I'd only been living as a girl for a couple of days but something seemed to be happening to me that I hadn't planned on. I was starting to look at the guys as well as the girls and starting to analyse what guys really looked like and what made them attractive. It was the result of hanging around with the rest of the band because they would look at a guy and dissect him up, down and sideways in seconds and they were involving me as well. The interesting thing is that they did it to girls as well as guys. My thinking altered over a very short period and it was starting to warp my mind.

"What are your plans for the next few days, Alysa? Do you have plans or are you heading back to ... where are you from, again? I know you told me but it's gone out of my head."

I told him. He gave me that famous grin and I swear I felt a stirring in my panties. That alarmed me and I made a mental note to get real. (I figured out later that it was just the fame thing. Here I was talking to a guy who was currently one of the biggest names in the business and I was enjoying it. Not only that, but he wanted to get to know me better. Looking back, it was the biggest minus I can remember since I became Alysa.)

To be honest, we'd made no plans for the next day other than a visit to the studios to talk to the bigwigs about where we went from here. We expected to discuss recording and money, not necessarily in that order. We hadn't been told how long the studio would pick up the tab for the hotel or even how long we'd been booked in for.

I told Dave I didn't know, so he gave me the number of his private line and told me to call him if I got a chance and he'd take me out to see some of the sights and do some eating and drinking. In the meantime we talked until five in the morning.

I hadn't watched the other girls because I was pre-occupied with Dave, but I looked up later and saw they seemed to be having a good time. Xenon was talking to my hero the drummer and getting closer and closer to him: Blanche was with someone I'd never seen before. I couldn't see the other two but then I spotted Hyatt with the heavy metal band, who seemed to have revived somewhat from their earlier stupor and were plying her with alcohol. Since she could drink most old rockers under the table I wasn't concerned about her.

Carla, who was presumably still looking forward to a night of hot loving, was nowhere to be seen, but then I saw her coming out of the bathroom.

I was about ready for bed. It had been a long night for a young girl and I was tired. To be honest, I wasn't up for a night of hot loving. I told Blanche I was going back to the hotel because I'd had enough and all except Xenon elected to join me. Xenon was moving even closer to the drummer and had a look in her eye that said she might be home a little later than the rest of us.

Carla joined us. She was looking at me speculatively so she hadn't forgotten her plans for some kind of musician's mating ritual. I wondered what the chances were she might fall asleep, or alternatively, I could say I had a headache. Isn't that what girls do?

There was no chance of going to sleep. As soon as we got back to the hotel both mini-bars were stripped bare and more toasts proposed. I lay back on my bed and contemplated life, which at that moment was good.

"Did I see Dave looking like he wanted to fuck you?" asked Blanche. Talk about getting straight to the point.

"You might have," I said. "He obviously knows an attractive girl when he sees one. I think he'd say 'make love' rather than 'fuck', by the way. My God, you modern girls are crude."

A cushion hit me on the head. "You fucking drummers are all the same," said Hyatt. "You live in cloud-cuckoo land and think you hold the band together. It's a well known fact that we real musicians only tolerate drummers because they provide flat surfaces to put drinks on."

"Make love you, Hyatt," I said.

She laughed. "Actually, you were great tonight, Alysa. The band never sounded so good. We impressed the shit out of everyone and it puts us in a strong position for tomorrow when we talk to Dave and the bigwigs."

"Dave and the Bigwigs? Where are they playing? Can I get their autographs?" I was feeling playful.

"Shut up, Alysa. Blanche, what time do we see them tomorrow? Sorry, today."

"Two in the afternoon. Listen girls, it's five in the morning. I'm going to bed and I don't want to be disturbed by anything, especially the sounds of people fucking in the next bed." She glared at Carla and then at me. Bless you, Blanche, I thought.

Carla frowned but went back to her room with Hyatt. Xenon still wasn't back so they'd at least get a bed each. And I'd be sharing with?

"Get in the bed. Alysa. Katya, you can sleep with me. I'm not taking any chances with randy drummers."

I washed off my make-up and stripped off my clothes. I'd bought a plain shortish chemise to use as a nightgown because I didn't particularly like the one Blanche got me. This was just short of knee level, slinky and black. Blanche and Katya inspected me and approved. I slipped into bed and fell asleep in seconds.

It was much later on that I woke to find myself surrounded by girls. They were mostly in underwear or nightwear apart from Blanche, who seemed to be naked. Xenon had returned and was dishevelled but still dressed in the bronze outfit she had on at the House of Blues. Her hair was distressed and her make-up was ready for an overhaul, but she looked remarkably alert.

It seems that during the night my bedclothes had slid sideways and my chemise had slid up.

"Exciting dream was it, Alysa?" asked Blanche. I also seemed to have one of those big morning erections. I couldn't help it, I blushed in all sorts of places but I decided to brazen it out.

"So am I going to be inspected for … er, excitement, every morning?"

"Don't talk nonsense, Alysa," said Blanche. "That would be an invasion of your privacy and an abuse of human rights. It was just that you looked so cute in your black gown and hard-on that I called the girls in to take a look. Carla says she feels responsible for you and claims she has priority." She grinned at me. I sat up and pulled the bedclothes over my excitement and asked what time it was.

"Just turned noon, lover," said Carla. "We're going to eat but we'll give you ten minutes to make yourself look pretty."

Lover?

I got out of bed and stripped off my chemise as I headed for the bathroom and threw it at the assembled girls. I wasn't going to be intimidated by a mere bunch of beautiful young women.

It took twenty minutes before I was clean, dressed and made up. I stood proudly naked while I found some clothes to wear. Blanche and Carla watched, the other girls had already left.

"I'm still intrigued by this transformation from male to female," said Carla. "For some reason I find it very exciting. I suppose it's because I love disguises and I love dressing up. When we become famous, I intend to become someone else from time to time to avoid my fans, who will be waiting outside my home and outside our hotels to catch a glimpse of me. They won't recognise the old lady or the guy with the moustache."

"Do you believe in fairies as well, Carla?" Blanche asked.

"You wait and see. Someday we'll be famous and it won't be very long. I can feel it coming and you'll all be glad to get my advice."

"Thank you for the offer, Carla," I said. "I might disguise myself as a guy sometimes, but I'll keep wearing the panties. They're kind of nice."

"Getting you into panties was too easy, Alysa. You're a pervert. Can we eat? I'm starving and you two can sort out the sex later."

She led the way downstairs and we joined the others in the dining room attached to the hotel. They had cold beers waiting for us and we toasted success again. We had a short serious discussion about the upcoming meeting and elected Blanche spokesperson. ("I'm a spokeswoman in case you fucking airheads hadn't noticed.") I suspect she'd already elected herself but it seemed right to make it formal. That way we'd have someone to blame if it all went wrong.

 

The two p.m. meeting was interesting. Marcus and the other industry execs were still glowing from the response to our performance the night before. To cut a long meeting short, they wanted us and they wanted us in a studio as soon as possible. They offered us a contract and Blanche agreed that we were interested in dealing with them but insisted on passing the contract in front of a lawyer before we signed.

I could see Marcus nodding his head but there was a bit of grumbling from some of the others. Blanche was adamant and we agreed to let them know within forty-eight hours. We set a provisional date four weeks ahead to go into a studio.

We heard Marcus's cell phone making tweeting noises and he left the room briefly. When he came back he was grinning.

"Hey, that was the Anaheim House of Blues, girls. They had our friends booked in tonight but the drummer and bass player have been remanded in custody while a large quantity of a white powder they found in the false bottom of a case is analysed. They're talking dealing rather than using. Anyway, after the rave reviews from Sunset Strip they wonder if you'd like to play instead."

We all looked at Blanche and nodded in unison.

"Tell them yes, Marcus," said Blanche. "That reminds me, you said we were getting paid for last night. Has our price gone up yet? Do you have your wallet on you? Would you like to pay us for both gigs now?"

Marcus passed over an envelope.

"That's for last night. I'll see you get cash immediately you finish tonight. Can I just say this: I'd really like you girls to work with us. I think you've got huge potential, so get the contract checked out as soon as you can and let's start making you rich. The hotel is booked for another two nights, so feel welcome to use their facilities and eat and drink what you want. Whatever you eat or drink at Anaheim tonight we'll also pick up if we have to. I can't remember if they include food and drink in the deal or not.

"I want to bring in some more music reviewers and writers as well. It's never too early to start the publicity ball rolling. Blanche, can we get a few photographs taken before you go this afternoon? I want something to give the critics to use with their reviews, assuming we can get them to write something. There's a studio across the road where we can get a few shots done."

Blanche looked at us and we nodded again.

"Okay, Marcus. You've got us interested. Lead us to the studio."

We said goodbye to the execs, who promised they'd be in Anaheim that night. Marcus led us through a maze of corridors until we found ourselves on the footpath and he led us across the road to a low building and we met someone called Nigel, who complained loudly about short notice and the difficulty of getting good help and how irritating it was to find he was taken for granted. On a positive note, we girls were in no danger from Nigel, although if I'd turned up as Mac I might have been. Marcus didn't seem at all fazed.

"Danni. DANNI." Nigel bleated a loud cry for help. "DANNI. Where the fuck are you, you fat slag. We have clients. WE HAVE CLIENTS, DANNI."

A girl appeared from behind a screen at the back of the room.

"Don't speak to me like that, you little turd. When you show me some sign you actually have some talent, then you can shout at me, but so far I haven't seen anything from you but average. Do you hear me, you cretinous little faggot? AVERAGE."

By this time she was standing over Nigel, who was starting to wilt under Danni's attack. She glared at him until he slunk away and Danni approached us smiling sweetly. She was very good-looking, dark and slim and clearly the 'fat slag' was something personal.

"I'm sorry about that, Marcus. What can we do for you today?"

"Hi Danni. We just want some shots of these girls to pass out tonight. They don't need to be glamour shots, just something attractive. When we sign them up they'll be back for the glamour shots. Oh, this is Danni, girls, my favourite publicity genius."

Marcus introduced us by name and as Touch My Butt and You're Dead.

"I just love that name! Leave them with us, Marcus. We'll only need about forty minutes. Come back and get them then. Girls, follow me."

She led us out the back into a make-up studio which was crammed with clothes on one side. She sat us down one by one and touched us up. Sorry, touched up our make-up. She decided not to worry about changing our clothes. We were all in jeans or short skirts and there were some high heels and cowboy boots. She called Nigel and told him to get his fucking backside into gear, which he did. It was all over in ten minutes and Nigel went off the transfer the pictures into a viewable form.

Danni brought them up her computer screen and showed us the end result. For all his complaints, Nigel had done a good job and any one of ten pictures would have been fine. Damn, we looked good!

Danni chose two finalists and as Marcus walked in she asked his opinion. Marcus agreed with our choice and Danni went off to make copies.

 

Five minutes later we were back on the street outside the record company's office and we had to head for Anaheim right then for a sound check. I didn't realise until later just how far it is to Anaheim. I had this idea it was a 10 minute trip, but I was soon corrected. I'd never been to Disneyland and I wondered if I could fit in a quick trip. There was always tomorrow of course, but since I was going to be in the neighbourhood …

We'd packed up our gear the night before and Marcus had seen that it was put in a truck and had the truck locked up inside a secure garage. He'd also made sure that Hyatt's van had been taken back to the hotel for her. She hadn't wanted a stranger driving it but even she had to admit she wasn't in a fit state to drive. Anyway, we decided to try and get Marcus to give us a lift from the hotel so Hyatt didn't have to worry about her van again. Blanche went back inside to talk to Marcus, knowing that the execs weren't going to say no to us on a minor matter like transport when we hadn't signed the contract they were keen on getting signed.

In no time at all we had the van back at the hotel and we were crammed into Marcus's convertible and headed east. It was crowded, but fortunately Carla compromised by sitting on my lap.

The Anaheim House of Blues was very much like the rest of the chain. The good news was that our gear had been assembled on stage, pretty much how we usually set it up. With some minor shifting around we were ready to go and we had the sound check done and we were free by five p.m. Our support act was a group known as the San Andreas Faults, three guys and a girl who sang unplugged rock versions of Mozart. Gee!!

We hadn't thought ahead. Marcus drove us back to the hotel because we had to change for the performance. We should have changed before we went out or at least taken our clothes with us. By the time we fought our way through traffic back to the hotel it was getting late and Marcus said he'd drive us back to HOB and see we got fed and watered. I suppose watered sounds better than beered.

I'd had to reconsider what I was going to wear that night. The clothes I'd had on the night before were tired and dishevelled and I couldn't wear them again if I wanted people to come near me. I hadn't anticipated a second performance. I was searching through my wardrobe and starting to worry when Katya offered me one of her tops and skirts. The skirt was a cute ice-blue chiffon number in layers, not too short but a good inch less than the one I wore the night before, and the top was a white silk tank that looked good on me. Perfect! I kissed Katy, changed into white stretch satin panties from Victoria, put on my high heels and I was ready. I only had to re-do my face later that night before we went on.

Blanche and Katya seemed to have an endless supply of clothes. I had some things I hadn't worn that I bought the day before at Del Amo, but I hadn't been looking for stage stuff and I wasn't quite ready for the corseted look to go live. I still wanted to work on the possibility of that being a permanent stage outfit but I needed to try it out at home and make sure it was workable. In the meantime, Touch My Butt was glamour, not grunge, and everyday wouldn't cut it on stage.

Blanche had managed to find yet another cardigan top that was two sizes too small, a pink one this time. She stuffed a white petticoat into a bag for later and put on a purple miniskirt to complete her going-out-to-dinner look. Katya was wearing a white dress that just about covered her backside. I loved her look. It was sexy as hell and I'd noticed some of the crowd gathering to look up here dress last night, just as I predicted. Of all the girls, Katya had so far shown the best eye for clothes, even though Xenon was technically in charge of stage appearance stuff. Hmmm.

When we walked outside, the others were just as attractive in a variety of short and long things. I'd seen quite a few girl bands over the years, mainly in pictures, but I'd never seen one as good-looking as Touch My Butt. I felt a surge of pride at being part of it. Carla was wearing one of her preferred long dresses with plenty of air-conditioning. It was white silk, I think, and clung like, well, silk cling-film. She smiled when she saw me and she recognised Katya's clothes. It occurred to me that a long dress would suit me as far as people looking up my skirt was concerned. I filed that away to think about as well. The fact is that drummers spend the evening with their legs apart.

Marcus Cod was beaming with pleasure when we piled into his convertible. I felt comfortable around Marcus and I think he'd patted everyone's thighs at some time but it was just friendly stuff and if you weren't sitting next to him it was okay. He seemed to get a kick out of having a car full of beautiful girls. He certainly got a lot of attention from onlookers.

The HOB was bustling already and we were greeted by the house manager, Parish, who'd had word of a great gig on the Strip the previous night. Marcus looked smug as he made introductions and they led us through to the dining room where a group of waiters literally ran across the room to see we had everything we needed. I just love being the centre of attention. By the time we got to our seats, beer had started to arrive.

Carla sat next to me. She claimed it was to fend off the groupies who would undoubtedly try and get my panties off and do things to me. She said that was her job. Carla looked magnificent in the white silk dress. There was a veritable Grand Canyon of cleavage and her golden skin glowed in the dim light.

I warned her that the pork ribs could be a danger to a white dress and she took the hint. Actually, ribs are a danger to any clothes in any colour. I looked her over and she grinned back at me because I know I had a look on my face that indicated I was interested in a mutual exchange of views on politics and religion. Not! Tonight I wanted to get her back to the hotel at a reasonable hour so we could explore each other's femininity.

We were over-waitered. I could see other diners looking terse because we were getting all the service, but I loved it. I also loved that I was getting as much attention as the other girls. Marcus sat and basked in our reflected light and, when he could get a word in, entertained us with more tales from his past.

By the time we'd had enough to eat and drink it was time to listen to the San Andreas Faults. I'm not sure Mozart would have approved and there was a distinct possibility he was spinning in his grave, but they were actually quite listenable. Eventually they wound up the performance and we were on!

Tonight there was a bigger crowd and they were cheering as we came on. Word had got out. We did a quick tuning check and from there it was a repeat of the previous night, so I won't go into details. The major difference between the two nights was the crowd. This time, some of them knew who we were and had made the trip out just to catch the show. We played just as well that second time and the crowd that came to talk to us afterwards was so complimentary I felt embarrassed.

Marcus had done a good job on the music press and I met a lot of guys and a couple of girls I knew by name but not by sight. They were all positive and affirming, they all took a couple of copies of our photograph and we signed quite a few of those. The picture was good and I took a couple for me as well. I had it in mind to send copies to some members of my family, but then I thought, whoops, maybe not.

My hero the drummer turned up and it was obvious he had a thing for Xenon. Quite a big thing, she told us later, when she finally made it home. I spoke to him briefly as well and I swear I blushed when he told me how good I was. Shucks, me?

It was enough to give a girl a hard-on.

 

We got home a little before three, with Xenon missing again. Blanche, bless her petticoated heart said she was going to share with the girls in the other room and Katya thought that was a good idea. With Xenon missing there was a spare bed, although someone was still going to have to share, and that gave Carla and me the run of the other room. Carla's response was a loud, 'Wheeee!'

When the door closed behind us there was no rush to tear our clothes off. We looked at each other with undisguised lust, standing only three feet apart, and slowly started to take our clothes off. Carla was only wearing panties under the white silk. The dress slid quite slowly to her feet and I got my first unimpeded view of her rather impressive breasts. Her panties were pretty much wisps of lace held together with ribbon and later I found out who made them and where Carla got them. They were gorgeous. I slid my skirt down and my top flew across the room closely followed by a bra and panties. Carla discarded her panties, which hardly put up a fight, and we immediately engaged in heavy, heavy kissing which morphed into other lustful activities that went through the night and into the morning.

Carla was quite a lover and I confess I only just kept up with her. When we finally came to properly halfway through the next morning she asked if I'd put on the ice-blue corset I'd bought and asked if she could wear the red one. I had no objections and found that sex in corsets is very sexy. Carla filled out the red corset much better than I did, on top at least.

The telephone rang and I picked it up. It was Blanche wanting to know if we'd finished fucking yet. I said, "Just a moment, caller," and said to Carla, "Blanche wants to know if we've finished fucking yet. Have we?"

"Tell her we may never finish fucking."

"Are you there, caller? Carla says … "

"I heard what she said, Alysa, and if you call me caller again I'm going to come in there and tie you to the balcony railing and invite the marines to come over and fuck you until you start to enjoy it."

"Did you sleep well, Blanche? I thought I detected a note of tetchiness there."

"No, I didn't. Fucking Hyatt snored like a fucking blocked drain all night. I forgot she sleeps with her mouth open when she drinks. I'll be in there in thirty seconds, so if you need to do anything I'd do it real fast."

"She's coming in," I told Carla. "We won't have time for any more sex until tonight."

"Well, shit. I guess I may as well go shower. You want to help me?"

"An interesting thought, Carla. You mind if I just calm Blanche down first?"

"Go ahead. Remind me about the cling-film later." She headed for the shower and I watched her svelte body undulate into the bathroom. Wow, what a night! And what was that about the cling-film?

Blanche came through the door, or more accurately burst through the door. She wasn't quite naked. There was a vague suggestion of lace and silk top and bottom, but her eyes were red and she looked unhappy.

"That's it for me. From now on I'd rather listen to you two getting it on in the next bed than listen to Hyatt snore. Jesus fucking Christ, I've never heard anything like it, and now she's denying it was her. I see you've become less coy, Alysa. Nice corset, nice hard-on. How do you manage that after a night with Carla? You do realise, don't you, that sooner or later you're going to have to fuck me? I'm a nice, quiet, shy and conservative girl from Colorado, but I guarantee you'll enjoy the experience. Oh, look - it just got bigger. Now you understand, don't you, that I'm just after a little hot sex. I'm not interested in a long-term thing, just quick, steamy loving in the back of the wardrobe, and when we're famous, in the back of the limo. "

"Thank you, Blanche," I said. "I'm going to take that as a compliment. I know you have high standards and you wouldn't have a quickie with just anyone. In the meantime, I think discretion on your part while Carla's around would be good. I have a feeling she might get offended if she found we were fooling around. I think she may be the jealous type."

"She is the jealous type, Alysa. I saw her once before threatening grievous bodily harm to a girl she thought was going to be a problem."

The conversation ended as the bathroom door opened and Carla appeared. I could see problems ahead if this got out of control, but I was reasonably sure that Blanche had enough sense not to rock the boat just as the band, her band, was looking good.

 

I was still hoping to get to Disneyland but there was a contract to be signed. I took advantage of the only person I knew in LA, my new friend Dave. I called him up at noon and told him I didn't think it was wise to see him because my boyfriend was the jealous type but could he recommend a lawyer to look our contract over. He could and I rang her office. The receptionist was far from helpful when I said I wanted an appointment, so I mentioned Dave and we had an appointment for two, just like that.

We ate breakfast and Hyatt finally conceded she snored after Katya and Hyatt both agreed with Blanche. Carla also said she'd heard her snoring at concert hall levels. Blanche split the money from the two nights and there was more than I thought there would be. Xenon finally got back and we went to see the lawyer. On the way we bought a paper and found a review of the Anaheim gig that was very positive. One of the new pictures got printed too and it looked good in black and white.

Diana Li was my first LA lawyer and will probably be my last. She was around thirty or so and a beautiful dark-haired part oriental lady. The power suit should have had a $ logo on it. It was one of the best pieces of clothing I'd seen up until then. The skirt was knee-length and the single button jacket showed us a white silk blouse that didn't do much to conceal a generous cleavage. She had a single diamond on a gold chain around her neck that seemed to be about the size of an ostrich egg. She looked like what she was, a very powerful woman. It turned out she was one of the top three entertainment lawyers in LA and she was happy to talk about Dave for quite some time. She spoke like she was half in love with him but finally she got down to business and asked what we needed. Blanche passed over the contract.

"Pah! Standard record company/musician contract. I've seen plenty of these and we need to look closely at a few key clauses to see what they've altered or crossed out. Now, Clause 23.1 (a) is always one to look for. Hey, these guys must really want you on the team. Let's see, 28.3 (e). Mmm, they've left that in as well. Just sit tight for a moment."

The moment lasted about twenty minutes.

"Okay, girls, this is the story." Diana went through the contract in short sharp bursts, summarised the bottom line and we gasped collectively.

"Like I said, this contract is better than average. My recommendations are that you tie yourself to the label for less than the period they've written in here, which is fifteen years. Three years would be more usual these days and if you restrict it to one album per year instead of the two it says, it would tie in with the advance they mention, which is for one album within six months. It's a good advance though. Would you describe yourselves as basically unknown? (Nods) There are restrictions that cover the first album being a flop but those clauses would probably suit you as well. What you have to decide is if six months is enough time and if the advance is sufficient."

There was other stuff, particularly about touring to promote albums, but Diana assured us that the contract was better than many she'd seen, but she still recommended about ten changes, eight of which the studio would expect a lawyer to delete or alter. We looked at each other and Blanche said, "All those in favour, right hand up." Six right hands shot up. Diana promised to have the altered contract back to the studio the next morning. We signed it individually and asked how much it would cost for Diana's services, both now and ongoing.

She smiled and glanced at a note her receptionist had brought in while we were talking. "Ongoing, I'll be happy to represent you even at short notice for emergencies or for long term stuff, contracts and suchlike, but I have a note from Dave saying he'll cover this visit. If you want to retain me, sign this and I'll be pleased to look after your interests."

A standard form appeared and we signed again.

"Thanks, girls. Your interests are now my interests. Dave's note also says you're going to be famous, so I'll be interested in what happens next in your career."

We shook hands with Diana and left. As we hit the pavement we whooped with glee. We were on the way!!

 

We had one more night at the hotel and we needed to see if the studio would sign the amended contract the next morning. We made a courtesy call to Marcus to tell him the contract was on its way back and he complimented us on our choice of lawyer. With an afternoon to kill we were at a loose end and I suggested Disneyland. Everyone agreed and I got my wish, a trip to the Magic Kingdom.

 

I had one qualm. I'd been signing things as Alysa Woolf, but was that legal? I had no idea if I'd broken the law in some way but I knew for a fact that Mac was moving further away every hour and I was becoming Alysa more and more every hour. In fact, I'd just signed up to stay Alysa for the foreseeable future. I seemed to have a new girlfriend and an offer of brief, but very hot, loving as well. Life was exciting but it would get even more exciting.

  

  

  

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