Be My Bad Boy

So I turned up at the filming location with a heap of clothes I’d begged and borrowed from some very funky designers. All I'd had to say was that we were filming a clip and people happily loaned me stuff. I'd not realised it would be so easy.

The warehouse buzzed with activity. I’d been expecting a couple of Angie’s friends with some borrowed camera – real low-grade stuff, but this was like walking onto a Hollywood set. I almost swooned looking around the place. Then I nearly got knocked down by a guy carrying a bunch of equipment.

"Sorry, Sorry," he called as he rushed off.
"Where do I –"
He disappeared before I could ask him where to leave the clothes. I'd slung the bags over my shoulder and they were weighing me down. I couldn't see anywhere to set them up, although Angie had told me she'd have an area organised for wardrobe.
There seemed to be about twenty or more people buzzing around. Across the room, a couple of girls set up a bunch of backdrops, while some guys played around with a big metal box of technical-looking equipment. A couple of other guys laid tracks down on the floor.
In the middle of the filming area stood a huge prop that looked like an old pirate ship with cannons and skull and crossbones flags and rope ladders. It even had a network of sails that looked all piratey and authentic.

"Hey you, get up here and help me fix these gels!"
I looked up and saw a dude hanging off some scaffolding. And he wanted me to help him with his gels? Why did he need his nails done? That just seemed blatantly stupid. Maybe he was messing with me. I figured it was best to ignore him.
“Hey, I asked you to help me. Get your arse up here."
I looked around the warehouse to see who he was actually talking to but there was nobody else nearby.

"Yeah, you. What? Are you stupid or something?"
This guy obviously had a death wish. Could he not see that I wore an outfit not made for clambering? High heels and a skin-tight pencil skirt pretty much ruled out climbing up scaffolding.

"God, what are you waiting for? Make yourself useful."
"Oi, Peter. Stop giving orders to Hannah. She’s the band manager not your lackey. Hannah, you have the wardrobe? Awesome sauce. Is it all awesome and pirate? The guys are going to look freaken cool in this clip if it kills me. But what if they get super huge and I can’t even get tickets to see them play? That’d suck. You’ll get me tickets, won’t you Hannah? Promise me, no matter, you’ll get me tickets."

She led me over to some racks in the corner so we could hang the clothes.
"Oh, Andy has to wear this frock coat. Imagine how his broad shoulders will look in it. And he has to wear the ruffly shirt with it with that lace. With his leather pants. Oh my god, I’m getting wet just thinking about it."
"Angie!"

"Well, it’s true. Don’t tell me you aren’t?"
"I’ve told you before –"
"Yeah, yeah. You can say it all you want but I can’t believe any woman would NOT be interested in Andy Biersack." She grabbed my wrist and held it between her thumb and finger. "You have a pulse, ergo you must be interested. That’s just science."
I shrugged. There was no talking sense to her. But I loved her enthusiasm for the costumes. Before this filming had finished, that band would be only happy to see the back of me as manager. “That one would be perfect on Jake. Emphasis his cute shyness."
I nodded. I’d picked out the drawstring shirt with Jake in mind.

"And Jinxx and CC can wear anything, anyway. We can just put them in the back with dim lighting. Ashley can wear anything and he looks hot. We can put him by Andy. The band isn’t here yet and I've been running around gangbusters all morning. Come out and have a fag with me until we start."

"I hope they turn up. I have zero faith in Andy."
"You have an agreement with him, right. We worked our arses off getting him that gig." She waved to a guy on the scaffolding as we walked through the warehouse. "They should appreciate what we did for them. They should buy us dinner at a romantic restaurant and flowers and all that kind of thing and Andy should get down on his knees and thank us."
"Not really. It was Frank."

"Yeah, but those bloody kids rolled our tree frog outfits when we took off after jerk face and that was a whole shit fight."
We’d completely forgotten about the bag with our costumes and the posters until later and, when we’d gone back to get them, they'd been stolen. Angie and I had searched the streets but nothing had turned up.

"I'd have made sure they were stolen long ago if I'd thought of it."
She laughed.
We stepped out onto the street and she huddled in a doorway to light her cigarette.
"You are looking smoking hot today. Any particular reason? Huh? Huh?" She nudged me and grinned.
I thought so too but hadn't wanted to say it. Angie wore a pair of short shorts with striped tights and she'd added blue to the green in her hair. She looked pretty hot herself. In a grungy kind of way.
"No reason at all."
Angie thought too much about flirting with the band and not enough about making money from them but still, I didn’t know what I’d do without her.
We went back inside and the guys had arrived. Andy stood to one side while three of the girls talked to him and flicked their hair. For a moment, my stomach clenched tight. Bimbos.
Angie clapped her hands loudly, getting their attention.
"Back to work, girls. No time for standing around chatting. You guys, get to makeup."
"Makeup? No way." Andy glared at us.
"It's part of the process. You need to look good on film and those lights will show up every imperfection."
"I don't think he has any imperfections," one of the girls said.
Angie shot her a look to silence her.
"It's not optional," she said and pushed them towards the makeup area.
I didn't really have much to do, so I found a spot out of the way and settled down to watch.

Notes

There I updated for yeh cx It's a small chapter but if works.