Eddie Munson - A Collection of One-Shots!

018. His Sparkling Diamond.

Why she would appeal to me.

My characters often had an Ivy Elf on their team when I wrote my campaigns for D&D.

Tonight was Hawkins Festival, and various bands had been asked to perform, ourselves included.

Our stages were themed at our choosing.
We'd gone for a thundering black and red sky, with bright white LED lightning, the screens depicting rain and a storm of bats circling; an ode to Ozzy.

"We've been Ivy Lane and we're gonna leave you with one final song before we let the next guys come on, what d'ya say?" She spoke into the microphone.

Her voice sounded sweet; I liked it.

Ivy Lane had gone for an impressive D&D battle scene. I decided it was my favourite of the night.

The crowd cheered and were shouting the title of a song that I couldn't quite make out.

"Ohhhh, that would be quite the set ending wouldn't it?" She asked, chuckling nervously down into the microphone.

"That's what you want?" She asked, as everyone roared around us, their voices ringing in my ears.

"Only if you promise to dance." She said, before turning to her bandmate on the decks.

I knew what it was, as soon as it kicked in.

Young Blood.

I realised I'd heard their EP recently, I just hadn't made the association until this song.

Ivy Lane.

Yes. I remembered them now.

The crowd was practically bouncing and she was jumping along with them, hyping them up.

"I knew you'd like them." Jeff shouted in my ear.

"Their backdrop is fucking awesome." I shouted back.

"Ivy Lane. Fans of D&D." I said, unable to believe it.

The song ended and she took a well deserved bow, the roar from the crowd, ear piercingly loud.

She'd earned it. They'd earned it.

Her voice was amazing.

She was beautiful too.

*****************************************
Eddie's POV.

We headed backstage, and spoke to one of the road team, asking if we could just pop in and speak to Ivy Lane.

When we had confirmation that the singer had now changed, and was decent, we were able to safely knock on their dressing room door.

"Come in." Someone called.

And as we opened the door, the singer, still with the vibrant red hair and tiara, was casually lounging on the sofa in an oversized black Dio T-shirt, black leggings and black boots, her bandmate slowly removing what I realised was a wig.

She sighed with relief, pulling the wig cap off, revealing a mass of deep orange, long, loose curls.

She adjusted her soft bangs at the front, tousling them with thin, slender fingers and she lay back, sighing again.

"Oh hey." She said, when her eyes fell on me.

"Corroded Coffin." She continued, as we all nodded.

"Yeah, we wanted to just drop in and say that it was an amazing set and backdrop." I said.

"Oh wow, thank you." She said, modestly.

"We watched from the crowd." Jeff said.

"You did?" She asked, surprised.