Return to Paid to Get Excited Chapter Six

Paid to Get Excited

Author: Coopster5000
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is the property of Joss Whedon/Mutant Enemy.

Once in their dorm room, Willow flopped down onto her bed kicking her shoes off up into the air.

"That party was fucking bullshit," Willow muttered. "Not one good thing happened at that party," she complained punching the wall.

"I got the stuff you wanted," said Faith turning on her bedside lamp. This caught the redhead's attention.

"What? Really? How much?" she asked in a rampage of questions.

"You know if Spike ever found out I was getting this shit for you he would kill me," said Faith handing over the small bag filled with white powder.

"Thank you," Willow said as she cleared off her night stand. "And it was just for tonight. Spike was watching me like a fucking hawk after he saw me talking to Kennedy."

"Yeah, I wonder why," Faith laughed as she watched the guitarist make powder lines with her school I.D. card. "Yo...can I hit up a line," she nodded to the five lines of crack spread out on the night stand. "It's been awhile since I've done it."

"Yeah sure. After all you got it for me," after Willow was done making snort lines they took turns taking hits of them.

"O fuck man the rooms spinning!" Faith said collapsing on her bed.

"Haha you're freaking out," laughed Willow who was sitting on the floor with her head resting on her bed.

"I feel like I'm on a carousel, but a mother fucking fast one," Faith said grabbing her head as if that would stop the spinning.

"You know that son of a bitch ruined it," said Willow angrily. "He ruins everything. Like right now. I can't even get high with out thinking about him or it!"

"What?" said Faith looking up.

"Then she tells me to leave. ME!" she huffed.

"Oh you talking about blondie and Xander,"

"You know that would have been our second kiss. But of course she would have denied it," said Willow staring at the ceiling.

"When was your first kiss?" Faith asked. "Wait, holy fuck you kissed," she shouted.

"It doesn't matter, not to her at least."

"Willow, Willow, Willow," Faith said trying to get up off her bed but only succeeded in falling off it. "Who put a step there?" she said when she got up. She carefully walked over to her friend and sat down beside her. "You should be all like... bitch admit we kissed!" she chuckled, leaning her head on Willows shoulder.

"Yeah cause I see that going over so well," Willow also laughed, looking at her now asleep half sister.

"Hey Tara tomorrow do you wanna go to a club with me," asked Buffy coming into their kitchen where the other blonde was preparing herself a sandwich.

"I don't think I wanna go to the Bronze Buffy," said Tara placing her finished sandwich down on the counter. "What if..."

"Oh no it's not the Bronze," Buffy reassured. "It's at this club that's like five miles outside of SunnyDale."


"Please, some guy asked me to go with him and I don't want to go alone," Buffy begged.

"Why don't you ask Anya," said Tara slouching her shoulders.

"Cause she'll probably talk about sex the whole time with him and you're my best friend, please," she begged again, giving the taller blonde puppy dog eyes.

"Okay, okay. I give in. When are we leaving?" she exhaled in disbelief.

"7pm tomorrow. He's picking us up," Buffy smiled excitedly. "Thank you Tara. You're the best," she squealed giving the blue eyed girl a hug.

The 'Saints' was a live club/bar where up and coming bands go to get noticed. That or where the teen population of Sunnydale sneak off to, to escape the boredom of their small one Starbucks town. It was sort of like the Bronze but every night a different band played, there was no sitting room and an admittion fee is always required to get in. The bands were better, loader, and played longer. Letting the club stay open to all hours of the morning.

Besides all that the club owner paid the bands top dollar for their performance making it extremely hard for any band to get a booking at the 'Saints' but some how Faith was able to pull it off.

"Tomorrow night, I got us a gig," said Faith plopping down on a couch in Spikes room.

"Uhh we already have a gig at the Bronze luv," said Spike handing Willow a bottle of water.

"Yeah but I think you'll change your mind," Faith smiled broadly. "Both of you."

"The Saints." grinned Spike "how the bloody hell did you get us booked for here?"

"I pulled some strings," said Faith crossing her arms and giving Spike a smug smile.

"You mean you had some strings pulled," Spike retorted pulling on one of Faith's showing g-string straps.

"O fuck you Spike. I got us the gig didn't I."

"My, my. No need to get your knickers in a twist," Spike said with a slight grin. "You never now when a producer may come by and you have to get out of them fast." he laughed as he ran away from an angry-embarrassed Faith

"That was so not funny," she complained punching her older foster sibling in the arm.

"Well I thought it was," he chuckled. "Where's Red? I'm sure she would have thought it was funny."

"Yeah it's Rosenberg. Yeah I'll hold, "she said into the receiver with dismay.

It's been almost two hours since the shakes have set in and it seems that they are getting worse by the minute. She now has to use two hands to hold the pay phone to her ear in order to keep from dropping the phone constantly and putting change into the tiny slots to stay on the phone longer was the worst. She couldn't steady her hand long enough to bring the quarter up to the money slot. She would always drop it half way up. So just like what she did with the phone she used two hands to place 75cents into the machine to stay on the phone an extra three minutes

"Rosenberg...." came a dark angry voice from the other side of the line.

"I need..." she didn't get to speak.

"Where are you," came the cold, deadly voice.

"I'm a club Saint five miles from SunnyDale. I'm outside in a phone booth," she replied. "Please come I need my fix."

"I'll be there strawberry," said the voice before the other line went dead.

"Yo red where have you been," asked Spike tossing his hands up in the air when he noticed the redhead walk in through the backstage door.

"I was outside getting a breather before the show started," she lied.

"You okay," he asked noticing that she was sweating and shaking a little.

"Oh you know, before show jitters. Never played at the Saints before. Don't wanna fuck up since I'm singing first," she lied again.

"So Red what's the order of the songs," asked Faith twirling her drum sticks in her hands.

"I'm not sure yet," she said sucking on her bottom lip. "I'll tell you when we get out there. But first I'm gonna get me a drink." she hastily excited before they could ask her anymore questions.

"What's up with her," asked Spike hiking his thumb over his shoulder at the redheads retreating form. "She's acting all schizoid."

"Don't ask," said Faith walking away also.

"Single malt Scotch Whisky, Glenlivet,"hollered Willow to the bartender.

"That's one hell of a drink ," said a voice from besides her.

"Gee-mom, but I really wanted it," she whined back sarcastically to the person never looking to see who she was talking to.

"Is that how you talk to everyone," asked the person obviously annoyed.

"Who the fuck are you to just start judging me," she snapped finally turning her head to see a smiling blonde sitting beside her. "And my ego is just fine."

The blonde bursted out laughing at that, not expecting the redhead to to talk about her ego first. Or in fact to actually remember anything that happened last night since she was completely hammered.

"So what are you doing here, Will?"

"I got a gig," she said monotone as she drained her drink.

"You don't sound to happy," stated the blonde.

"Oh I'm happy," she said unconvincingly "in fact when you see me on that stage I'll be as happy and hyper as a circus performer."

"Not if you're drunk," said Tara taking the third scotch out of Willows hand. "You'll be slurring and stumbling on that stage as if you were a bum."

"O yeah...well..... not like you care. You'd probably laugh your ass of if I fell down."

"No I wouldn't," she reassured the redhead.

"Willow you're on in ten," said the bartender putting down the phone that had just rang.

"O goody," she said putting on fake bravado.

"You don't sound too excited."

She spun herself off her bar stool and took two steps towards the stage.

"Haha, baby," she laughed. "I'm paid to get excited."

Continue to Paid to Get Excited Chapter Eight

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