Chapter Text
The small concert hall could barely even contain the crowd. For an event only having a setlist consisting of one person, the people could have almost seemed like a huge mass, instead of the usual mess. Every few whiles, whenever the lights turn on or a worker tries their best to sneak through the stage unnoticed, the mass explodes with applause.
The Rockstar stands behind the curtain, fixing out his own “hair” in the last seconds, making sure the goop doesn’t go anywhere it’s not meant to. Their guitar lies propped up against a wall, its wire getting lost between all the other wires spreading across the floor. The Rockstar takes a deep breath, their tail swishing.
There’s never getting over the stress before a performance, really. He loved the stage, it really was the only place where they felt like themselves, all the tabloids aside. This wasn’t any different.
— “Toxic Apple?” A worker peeks over from the dressing room. “We're starting the show in a minute.”
They nod in response, taking their guitar.
The concert was anything but not stressful, but it was… great. Yeah. It was cool. As the crowd’s noise slowly fades out, The Rockstar waves to them with one last grin before stumbling out back into the backstage.
He couldn't tell how long he's just been standing there staring at a wall, instrument still in hand, before he snaps out of it with the help of a strange commotion on the stage.
The Rockstar peeks out. An electric guitar that clearly hasn’t been tuned in a while sounds out, and after a few HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE seconds, a voice does as well. Weird. There weren’t any people scheduled after the Rockstar’s show. On the stage, a grown ass man, in a sparkly and puffy dress. He looked just like a really, really Angry Cinderella. A badly singing Cinderella at that. His “singing” was more of a scream into a leftover microphone stand with the key changing every time. The leftover people infront of the stage look at it as any other entertainment.
That is, until the security guy doesn’t come up and abruptly and rudely interrupts his measly show by picking The Angry Cinderella up and slinging him over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. The Angry Cinderella fights back (unsuccessful), kicking his legs and shouting “LET ME GO!!!” in a high pitch. Well, as high as his voice can go. I imagine it’s not a lot.
The scene could be considered ridiculous, and it was. The Rockstar, stunned and astonished, could only watch.
The Angry Cinderella, after seemingly giving up on getting out of the security man’s grasp, perks up at the sight of The Rockstar just behind the wall, about to follow the commotion caused.
— Yo! — The football called out, getting up a bit from where he was hanging. Nonchalantly, of course.
The Rockstar flinches at getting noticed. They slip away as The Angry Cinderella gets dragged out the door.