I know it’s cliché to fall in love with a rock star. Trust me, that wasn’t my intention when I sneaked into the arena four hours before the concert, and lurked around in the shadows, waiting for someone to come by.

All I was trying to do was to get an autograph for my friend, Beatrice, from Empty Memories’ lead singer, ZAK, a tall, handsome guy she idolized. My idea, originally, was to get Beatrice into the arena herself, so she could meet ZAK in person, but it turns out my best friend is a wuss who’s never up to doing anything against the law.

I know the arena. I’ve been to several concerts there, of course, but I also happened to perform there a couple of times in the past. Incidentally, due to a lot of things that happened before and after those presentations, I’d actually managed to make friends with a few of the security officers who worked there. In times like these, being sociable came in handy. It could grant you access to places you should not be at.

Waiting in the shadows was a bit of a bore. I silently relayed my plan to myself again, memorizing the words I’d tell ZAK when he came around. I was going to say I worked there, say that my name was Beatrice, and then ask for his autograph. Simple. There was no way this could go wrong.

Except—

“What are you doing here?” a woman’s voice called from behind me. I jumped, startled, and almost knocked the speakers down. The black-haired girl who’d just called me helped me stop them from falling and put them back in their place. When that was done, she cornered me against the wall. “So?” she asked me, raising her eyebrows.

“I… uh… I work here.”

She snorted. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”

I swallowed dry. Please don’t call security, I thought to myself. Sure, I was friends with some of the guys, but not all of them, and I’m sure that none of them would cover for me if the band playing that night decided to file a complaint.

The awkward silence dragged on for a little longer.

I looked back at the woman’s face. She had big hazelnut eyes, olive skin, black long hair, piercings on both ears and nose, and looked absolutely stunning.

“Say,” she broke the silence. “You’re pretty. What’s your name?”

“Umm… I’m Giulia…” shit, I had actually meant to give her a fake name, not my real one.

“Cute name,” she giggled. “And you do know my name, I assume?”

I racked my brains. Honestly, I hadn’t even known Empty Memories had a female band member to begin with. All Beatrice ever talked about was ZAK, and I wasn’t too into punk music, myself, so I wouldn’t know.

I shook my head.

“Sorry, I don’t.”

“Really?” she raised her eyebrows at me again. “What kind of fan are you?”

“I’m… not really a fan.”

“Then what are you? A thief? People don’t often break into our concerts if they’re not fans of ours. I mean, we’re still indie, it’s not like there’s a lot to steal around here.”

I scrunched my face in disgust. “Fuck you,” I told her, “I’m not a thief.”

That actually surprised the woman, so much that she was a bit taken aback by my rude comment.

We stood in silence for a while, she looking surprised, while I was simply angry. I found that I couldn’t stand that girl, and that I honestly didn’t want to continue this conversation any further. Even looking at her stupid pretty face made me angry. I decided it wasn’t worth it to still try and get that autograph for Bea. She could figure out a way to get that autograph on her own, during the concert that night. I turned to walk away.

“Forget it,” I told the woman. “I’m leaving.”

Surprisingly, I felt a tug on my arm, and as I looked back I realized that the girl had grabbed ahold of my right wrist. I wrestled myself free.

“Don’t fucking touch me, I did nothing to you.”

“Oh yeah? Since when do I take orders from you?”

She came after me, and pinned me against the wall. She held my left wrist with her right hand, holding it in place against the wall, and placed her left arm above my head. This brought her face so close to mine, that I could feel the warmth of her breath on my skin.

“I give the orders around here,” she whispered.

Then she pressed her lips on mine, and forced her tongue into my mouth. Suddenly, I found myself in a kiss with a beautiful stranger inside a poorly lit stage in the arena. And damn, was she a good kisser. For a moment, there, I almost forgot the situation I was in, and just gave in to her kiss, feeling it stir up emotions inside me. But then I remembered who she was, and what she was doing to me, and honestly, who did she think she was, going around kissing people against their will?

So I bit her tongue.

“Ouch!” she pulled back in a sudden.

“Serves you right,” I said, smiling deviously.

“Valerie?” someone’s voice called from beside us. I knew that voice, even before looking, from the songs that Bea loved so much.

It was ZAK, the singer. Honestly, he wasn’t even half as pretty as Bea seemed to think.

“Hey, Zacky,” said the woman. So her name was Valerie, I see…

“Yan and the others were talking about going over the new songs again, one more time, before we do it for real later. Are you up for that?”

“Sure, just give me a minute, ‘kay?”

He nodded, then tilted his head at me. “Who’s the new girl?”

“Evening fling,” she said, “nothing serious.”

“Bitch,” I said, contemptuously.

“Oh ho!” ZAK was laughing. “She’s a wild one. Careful with that, Val, we still got a concert to play tonight.”

Valerie nodded at him, who turned around and disappeared through one of the large doors that led to the backstage.

“What did he mean by that?” I asked her once he was gone, curiosity getting the better of me.

She smiled at me, a smile that could suggest a million things.

“Want me to show you?”

I wondered about that. “Do I?” I asked her. It was seriously a question I was also asking myself. Did I want this crazy punk chick to do whatever she felt like with me?

She shrugged. “Who knows? Stick around after the concert tonight, if you want to find out.”

She turned around, too, and went into the backstage, leaving me alone in the dark wide stage area, feeling angry, annoyed, and surprisingly, aroused.