The Band

"What he said." I then swat Paul.

"What the hell was that for?" He asks rubbing his head.

"He's your brother."

Mark snorts and grins then points for the door so I follow him with Paul emptying the trunk. Mark opens the door and holds it for me then follows in. I sniff since I can smell something cooking and it smells good. Mark is doing the same and has a smile then points so I head that way. The first room we reach is pretty darn big.

The TV is as big as the car I think. Under the TV is a sectional sofa, and I only know that because it's one of those huge ones that curls over itself. It is beige in color with some salmon throw pillows on it. Nestled in between the three sides of the sofa is a rather impressive glass coffee table with a bouquet of flowers in a vase.

Arrayed around the flowers are magazines. I can see some of the standard everybody reads, along with game magazines, music, and what looks like a catalog for musical equipment. Color me jealous, I have to take the bus for an hour to get to a good music store to buy picks and strings. There is on the far wall next to the window for the back yard what look an awful lot like gold records.

Big row of them, course row isn't quite the right word, rows would be better, four rows of at least five records on the wall. Holy shit, I seem to have gotten in a band with at least one guy the son of somebody in the music business. Color me a little shocked, then we are through the room into the kitchen, I like this kitchen.

Huge fridge, center island, pots and pans galore hanging above the island. Counter and cabinets galore, a door off to the side that has to be a pantry, and a woman cooking. I'd say she is the cook except she isn't wearing a uniform, also wearing an apron that says 'Never argue with Mom or the Cook.

Mark opening the fridge gets her to look over at us and her jaw drops. About then I realize there is a girl in here with mom I hope. She notices me and runs over then looks up, not all that far she is about twelve.

"Are you his girlfriend?" Mark groans and I shake my head.

"I'm in his band, I'm a bassist." Mom, the cook, whichever comes over and smiles at me.

"Well at least he finally did something right." Mark sighs and heads past me holding a soda.

"Yes fine I should have listened to Mom, he could play." Look at him, then back at Mom and suppose I look puzzled.

"He started a band in high school, the boy picked to be the bassist could play, also was into drugs. Common thing in music but never that early so I warned Mark about him, didn't listen and the boy got steadily worse at playing. Died as well, took the whole family yelling at dunce head over there to do an audition." Paul comes in lugging two cases and goes past me to put them by the table.

"He was a great guy and friend we were all bummed about it."

"There's no dining room?" Earns me a snort out of Mom.

"Other side of the house, when we got it the dining room was right there but we are not pretentious so put the living room there." The girl snorts and leans a little closer to me.

"Daddy loves sports so now he can listen to the games while we eat."

"Andrea." She straightens up and looks at her, I do the same.

Ingrained thing, when a woman snaps out your name like that you look at the woman. Also stand a little straighter and touch at your shirt to make sure it's straight. Call it having strict parents if you want.

"Oh no, your name is Andrea?" Nod and shrug.

"Got named Pinky by them, makes sense with Andrew, screaming Andrea and Andrew sound alike." Mom nods and sighs then looks at me a little closer.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty three." There is a frown now.

"Did you... No I won't ask. My boys are old enough for you and at least there is a band again. Are you staying for dinner?" Shrug at that just happy she didn't ask, I'm fairly sure she knows what happened to me, it was in the news for a week with pictures of me.

"I can if you don't mind, live alone and no pets."

"I don't mind, keep those two from doing anything vile will you."

Nod and head that way, she goes back to minding the stove. Andrea goes back to the breakfast nook she had been sitting at before working on something since school is over for the summer. I miss doing that with my mom while she cooked. Sitting at the table with Paul and Mark I go over what he has on lyrics, also swat him for not getting me a soda.

Paul hops up and gets two so I give him a little smile. We then go back to the lyrics and make pretty good headway on them. Eventually a man comes in and gets a kiss from Mom so that must be Dad. Not that I have any other names for them though he looks familiar. He sits at the table with us and looks me over as Mark hands over the notes.

Turn crimson at this point since the lyrics we have been working on are for the sex song that comes after the turning men down besides one at the end. He looks it over and starts to chuckle, I groan and drop my head to the table. I am mortified now since it is about having sex and while I would like to I also can't.

"This is pretty good. You also look familiar." Look up at him at that. "I think I have seen you before, though you had blonde hair then." Mom comes over and swats him.

"Leave that be." Drop my head back down, I don't want to talk about it, and if I do most pity me then if not simply assume I asked for it.

My therapist can't say where the thinking on that comes from. Also says that it is fairly common for men to assume that women do ask for it. Luckily at least it is not brought up again, and I spend quite a while going over the lyrics with Mark and Paul. Their dad does help a little, he is a music producer so gets the gold records along with the band.

Get a lift home a little on the late side but no questions on my past so I am happy enough. Also going back tomorrow to get together with the rest of the guys. My therapist appointment is for the day after so that really works. Honestly I'm happy with this, their dad can't sign us but because of who he is we can get some shortcuts.

Also find out that we have a gig in battle of the bands should have realized that before. Good in a way since producers do go to those. Not so good as well because they don't always show up until later which is when the better known bands are on. Course if we really kick ass we will get shoved out there again, management decision.

So I'm rather excited about that, and nervous as all hell getting on the bus. Not just because there are men, well men may be a relative term since most don't really look to need to shave yet. I'm nervous because it is known to have your instrument case snatched. Not to mention purse and then knifings are semi common to get either.

Luckily I get off the bus with my purse, case, and no extra holes in me. Then it is a fairly long walk, it seems like the bigger the house the longer the walk from the bus stop. Probably something to say about that but fuck if I care, I get to walk all this way. Finally I reach the house and head for the door to ring it.

Oddly enough Woody answers the door and ushers me in. We go straight to the living room where Paul, Mark, and Andrew are sitting on the sofa. They look up and wave then go back to what they are going over. Woody leaves me there to head for the kitchen so I go around the sofa to find a spot to sit.

"Here check it out, fairly sure that is what you played yesterday." Paul says handing a sheet over to me.

I look it over then jump when Woody puts a soda in front of me. Woody frowns then sits next to me.

"You are jumpy." Sigh and shrug.

"Rode on the bus, getting on a bus with purse and instrument case is a fairly good way of ending up minus one or both, sometimes with a knife wound or three." Four frowns.

"We gotta get you a car or something." Sigh and shake my head.

"Getting out with people is part of my therapy. Hell going to the audition was suggested by my therapist. Well not that one specifically but just getting back on the horse." Andrew groans.

"Oh hell." I put my hand up.

"I don't want to talk about it." Andrew nods, Paul I think knows though Woody and Mark look confused.

Still there's no questions or conversations, instead we head downstairs. The basement is a wonderland, there is some recording equipment along with a full sound system. Also have a drum set down here so Woody can play. Not his drum set but then again I haven't seen his set yet. Find myself wondering if he has a set, fairly common for places that have live bands to have their own drum set.

Which means drummers don't really need to have an actual drum set. Easy enough to set up a makeshift set and practice on that, also quieter so no complaints. Set the ponder aside, we are setting up our instruments then going over the first song lyrics. The come ons are pretty bad honestly though did let one work with me long time ago.

After a little bickering on some of the come on phrases we get the final one done that I say yes to. I got them to make it a really good one, promise to fulfill all my desires. I mean fuck, a handsome guy promising that is almost always going to get a yes. Well not out of me, at least not yet, but otherwise this is almost a definite no miss on a one night stand.

Run through the song once without lyrics and find it is a good length, just under three minutes. So we do the song with lyrics and find it got a bit over three minutes simply because it's a conversation. Which isn't bad, rather happy with it though I suggest making the last come on get asked twice before I say yes.

Met with some opposition but I go and grab Mark's nose and squeeze, he gives up and we do it with twice. Run through it twice more, with pauses to suggest other changes then we get joined by the parents and Andrea. Mom is giggling at the come on phrases that come out, I'm having fun with the no fucking way and then at the very end, I elongate the yes.

Don't know where the idea comes from but mean I do remember wanting hot sex. A good line like that would have me a little breathless. Also has me getting gawked at by the guys, Mom is downright laughing now. We are having pizza today which sounds good, though I order pizza fairly often since I don't have a car.

In this city there is what you can walk to, which is mostly other houses or apartments, and what you drive to which is everything else. Since getting on the bus is nerve wracking for a gal, gang members do get on them along with drug addicts, ordering pizza is a better idea. Helps that said pizza can last for a few days as well so there's no ordering every night or going to the store.

Not to say I don't go to the store, I go fairly often just to be around other people in a safe environment. Course safe being a relative term in that the driver can call for help if I get stabbed or other things. Luckily other things are limited on the bus since cops would be at the bus fast, and the driver does report when it looks like a gal is being followed for the other things.

On my way to my therapist the next day I am nervous, I know she will suggest I tell them. We also need a third song, we get twenty minutes or three songs. I'm just not real sure what to do for a third song. The guys are in the same boat, the best suggestion on what to do is something else, we got the come on for a one nighter and the one nighter.

"Miss, this is your stop." Look up and turn red, I was too busy trying to think of something else, luckily the driver remembers.

"Shit thanks for remembering." I get up and head for the door then stop, what the hell he's always been nice to me and remembers where I'm going. "Been dubbed Pinky and in a band, going to be in the battle of the bands." He beams at me.

"Awesome, I'll see if I can show up."

As I get off the bus he reaches for the radio mic, either he is reporting on that or has a call to answer. Bus drivers have conversations fairly often, at least in this city. Sitting next to the door or behind him you notice these things though hearing what he does is hard. Then I'm in my therapists office and getting ushered straight in.

"Well Andrea you are looking to be in better spirits." Dang, is she ever going to not notice everything and pry at it?

"Did what you suggested and am now in a band." Get ushered to the chair with a smile on her lips.

"That is wonderful news, tell me all about it."

Well alright so yeah prying is her job and she does like her job. So I tell her about the audition, what it was like before going in and playing and what happened after. She is smiling the whole time, asks questions on how I felt and all that fun jazz. Finally I finish and she is nodding as she takes notes then looks up at me.

"You have not told them?' I shake my head.

"Fairly sure Andrew and Paul know, the parents definitely know but I don't want to be pitied."

"Why you have pink hair now. Just you need to tell them, not what they heard on the news, well what they remember hearing, they need to know the truth. You need to talk it out anyway but you also need them to know the whole truth. They won't pity you, they will be mad at him."

"All I have ever gotten was pity out of people." Get a shaken head at that one.

"The group was proud of you, never had anyone go and talk about their experience in two months before. Well let me rephrase that, never had a violent victim go and talk about it after two months, usually four to five months to do what you did. Also would like you to come back, especially now that you are moving on and in a band again."

"I'm not moving on that well, still jumpy. Still sit close as possible to the driver."

"They like it when women sit close to them, they hate to have anything happen on the bus. Women sitting close to them means there is a fast grab and they can comfort her along with call in for police. Something else and they have a first aid box along with fast response. Jumpy you will be for life, get tired and touched and you jump away or attack. There really is no getting over this, you can only live with it. The more you talk about it however the better you will live with it. Always remember, you are not broken."

Sigh and nod, she always says that at the end of our session. I'm not sure I believe her but well I am getting out and doing things, not all victims do. Hell I'm back in a band and going to do battle of the bands. If there is a better sign of not being broken I can't think of one. Course most of what I am doing is simply blustering along and trying to look strong.

Deep down I'm scared shitless that it will happen again. Sometimes guys look at me and I think there is a big sign over my head saying what happened to me. Other times I think it's more they think I would look better without pink hair. Hard to really tell which is true and then we are talking about guys.

Back on the bus I head for Mark and Paul, we are to get together again to practice and try to come up with a new song. While walking to their house I get picked up by Woody, he has a rather nice newer car. I'm not saying it's a brand new expensive car, it's just your average seven year old car that mostly works fine.

Mostly works because the air conditioning doesn't work that great and the gears grind a little now and then. I'm just glad I left my bass here, taking the bus is bad enough, with the my case is nerve wracking since people do look at it. Much too big to be called anything but something expensive, which sounds wrong since most want to do guitar.

Case for my bass doesn't look like a guitar, long and sorta thin says something else is inside. Not to say an electric bass is cheap, the one I am using now was two grand to get. Had to get it special for me, the curse of being a chick doing bass. Most bass players are taller than I am with longer arms, there was one regular bass small enough for me, but I didn't like the look of it.

Inside we find all of the guys in the basement, since I am fresh from my therapist and she had insisted I sit the guys down in the corner sofa nook. They are all looking at me with confused faces so take a deep breath.

"I am fresh from my therapist and she insisted I tell so I'm going to tell you. Don't interrupt, don't ask questions, and no pity." Four frowns and nods so take another deep breath.

**

I'm too damn tired to wait for them. I left early because I need to catch the bus or wait another hour or so to hitch a ride. Course the bus doesn't stop on this street so I need to get to the next street over. Luckily for this the back of the place opens in an alley and there is a cross alley to take. Lugging my case I head for the cross alley.

See a crowd heading through the cross alley to take the bus like I am so don't pay as much attention as I should. I didn't know it then, the alley looked deserted, and I was tired so not thinking as well as I should be. Reaching the cross alley I turn to head for the bus and don't make it. A man darted out of the other side of the alley I was on and grabs me.

Tosses me toward the alley he came out of and follows after so I'm scrambling backwards. I didn't think to scream right away so he's grinning as he advances on me. I run into the wall and then think to scream, but only do so for half a second at most and he's on me. First thing he does is punch on my cheek so my head snaps to the side.

Find out later that he broke my cheek bone, not terribly bad of a break but broke. Then he punches me again so my nose is bleeding. I try and punch him back though it wasn't a terribly good punch. Still pisses him off so he rears back and punches again, and again. I'm actually not quite there when he rips my clothes off, laughing the whole time about how I'm a blonde slut.

Wore a skirt for the gig with a g string, wasn't my idea but I had to admit glances up the skirt it looks better than granny panties. Tears my top mostly off me then tosses my legs wide and gets between them. Come to with his weight on me, he is working on undoing his pants so I can scream bloody murder.

At least as much screaming as I can manage in the pain I am in. He gets his pants open so rears back and punches me again. This time on my eye bouncing my head off the concrete, makes my eye swell closed rather quickly. Puts me in a daze so I'm only moaning as he works his pants down enough to get his hard cock out.

Little spitting and shoving of fingers into me then there is a cock barreling it's way into my dry cunt. His words for it, he's taunting me with how I'm going to get off on his cock. Then he's moving so I scream again, don't get out much this time either, he produces a bit of cloth and shoves it in my mouth.

At this point I can't do much, he's shoving his cock in and out of me. My dryness is starting to not be dry. At the time I'm crying because I'm being raped, and it seems he was right, I am starting to enjoy his raping cock. Course enjoying isn't the right thing, I thought so then, but later on learned that I moistened to protect myself from further damage there.

Not that I knew it at the time, he's humping away at what I think is my willing cunt. I'm bleeding all over the place, my head hurts, and I can't do anything. Just lie there while he fucks away at me. Totally feeling helpless and weak while this man I never saw before is pumping away at me. I don't reach orgasm but I'm starting to feel the rise toward one when he does.

His head tosses back and he groans while his warmth floods me. Gets me to cry harder because I'm not on birth control. Hell for all I know the guy has HIV and now I do to. He's laughing as he finishes emptying into me. Kick at him when he stands up to fix his pants so he calls me some names and kicks back a few times.

Damaged my kidney on that side and gave me low grade internal bleeding. Kicks me on the head a time or two as well so I'm really out of it when he walks away. The last thought I had that night was that I need to get my case and get to the bus. Was found four hours later wrapped around my case and whisked to the hospital.