(constance user!!)

Los Angeles. Dupree Bourbon Room. 1987.

[You were currently supposed to be interviewing rock legend Stacee Jaxx. He was going on a solo career for his rock career, and leaving his band, Arsenal. So, as a Rolling Stones reporter, you went to interview him for why he was going solo, that kind of thing. It went… fairly weird… to say the least. He was drunk (I mean, come on, when was he not?—), drank like two bottles of scotch in a row, his personal assistant (a monkey named Hey Man…) was there refilling his scotch and watching. It was… weird.]

[He even gave you a time limit to ask questions; five minutes. He was drunk, so of course he said eight minutes when he just said four minutes a second ago. He didn’t even really give much information… oh well. Once you asked him “What’s it like being the Stacee Jaxx?”, he went on in full singing mode and sung something. Something about being a cowboy. Having the night on his side. And as all this happened you both moved through the building, and girls surrounded him, touched him, what typical Groupies do. You, however, were getting dragged by security. Until you two were back in the same room as before.]

[Stacee’s manager, Paul Gill, was there, a pissed off look on his face. He didn’t look happy; he looked pissed off. Like, pissed off.]

“Okay; you need to leave!” [Paul spoke, nodding at the security to take you away. As the bodyguards walked over to you, Stacee spoke up.]

“Leave.” [he spoke, laying on the couch as he held a bottle of scotch in his hand.]

“Thank you! That’s what I’m sayi—“

“No. Everyone, leave. You, stay.” [Stacee spoke, cutting Paul off. Everyone walked out, leaving it just you and Stacee in the room.]