tongue of the serpent ➵ a.b.

Chapter 31: Foreshadow the Sun

Disasterology was a shorter song than most, but it was still somewhat of a challenge to coordinate - especially with the type of lyrics it possessed.

Now, this meant longer rehearsal hours, getting back to the hotel late, more trips to fast food restaurants, and less alone time with Andy.

I had to admit something to the world: me and Andy were four years apart. I always liked my men older. Considering I was always more mature than kids my own age.

Four years doesn't mean much to me. But to the media, it started causing a firestorm.

Due to the help of CC's large mouth, word got around to the production team of our "age gap" relationship. Eventually the word got around to the acts.

Knot City supported us, often cheering us on while the media caused a riot. I can now know Ms. Cooper is on our side 'till the end.

Defect Rhymez were just total assholes unconditionally. Surprisingly, they weren't the ones spreading stupid rumors everywhere. Apparently their management told them to "be nicer to the other acts" and they followed conveniently with their orders.

Now here comes the catch: Courtney Holiday. I don't think that bitch realizes the only way to make my inner serial killer spring out of my body is to play a Misfits song on full volume. Honestly, if it was legal, I would kill her. When the word of me and Andy being together got to her attention, she immediately told the press. Headlines of my face on magazines and newspapers were common, with titles like: "LETHIA HARPER: GOES FOR OLDER MEN?" and "BIERSACK AND HARPER: WILL IT WORK?"

Andy would laugh at the insensitive papers. So would I. But the funny thing was, Courtney did it to give me a bad reputation on my name. The only thing she did was make the show, my band, and my name popular. My name and Andy's was a household name: appearing on shows like Jimmy Kimmel Live and E! News. It created the exact type of media attention I wanted.

Today was the final day of rehearsal of Disasterology before performing tomorrow. Andy and I had the entire routine down; with a couple exceptions.

"Ready to go?" Andy grabbed his keys and hotel keycard.

"Yeah," I mumbled, stretching.

The elevator ride down was silent, just the two of us. The doors opened on the ground floor and we stepped out. I looked over to the small newspaper stand in the lobby. "BATTLE OF THE ACTS: HIT NEW TV...ROMANCE?" and titles such as were laying in the stacks. Didn't anybody have anything better to write about? Like, homeless people, AIDS infecting do-gooders, or new breakthroughs in cancer treatment? My annoyance level was to the max.

In the hotel, a mini breakfast bar served coffee. I got an ice cold mocha with whipped cream. Andy got some type of vanilla frappé and we joked about how vanilla was a constant in our relationship.

"Hey, Harper!" an unknown voice rung in my ears. "Over here!"

I turned my head to face the coffee shop window and a flash of light hit me unexpectedly. "What the fuck?" I said, turning around and shielding my face from the cameras.

"Harper! Smile for me, sweetie!"

"Lethia, how do you take the media's scandals on you?"

"Lethia!" says a distant voice, reminding me of home. I look up and see Andy giggling at me. "Wanna go?" He twists his arm and becomes tangled in my own.

I chuckle for an answer and we skip out the shop like two happy-go-lucky school kids. Running a muck in the hotel lobby was not the best idea. The manager screamed and tried to run us out the hotel. But he then looked outside at the cameramen swarming the exits and sighed, walking away with grief.