Misfits in Seattle

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fan Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

The Misfits travel to Seattle to take part in Grunge Con!

(The first of my two entries for the Seattle-based 2017 JemCon!)

Submitted: December 04, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 04, 2017



Stormer took a seat next to the window, leaving Jetta and Roxy to fight over the last remaining one. Eric pulled the vest as he sat down, adjusting to his overstuffed leather seat. Pizzazz blew a large bubble, inhaling it again before it could burst on her face. She smacked the gum, causing air bubbles inside to make loud popping noises. This had the desired effect on Eric, who gave her a nasty glare. She smiled.

"I don't know why we had to go to this convention," Roxy grumbled as she settled into her seat away from the window. "Who cares about Grunge, anyway? It wasn't all that great when everyone was doing it!"

"Jem cares," Eric answered.

Roxy rolled her eyes. "Jem, again? What is it with you and this pink-haired prude, anyway? The way you get led around by her, you'd think you were in love with her, or something! I mean, seriously, Eric, it's pathetic."

"I am not led around by her. She's going to cash in on this Grunge revival, just you wait! When she does, the Misfits will be there to make sure we get our piece of the pie."

"How do you know?" Jetta asked, adjusting her low-cut vest.

"Did you not check your e-mail this morning? I sent you all the new release, the remix of Straight From the Heart. It's the song they released when they teamed up with Regine Cesaire, remember?" Eric took them all in. "It's already in the top five YouTunes downloads! You know where your single is?"

"Forty-three," Stormer answered.

"Forty-freakin'-three!" Eric repeated. "To top it all off, the Honesty Doll Line has a new GrungeCon Jem exclusive to be unveiled just before their performance! Do you know what that is going to do to your sales? Bury them!"

"Is this why you had us in the rehearsal studio until the sun came up yesterday?" Roxy was still cranky and her tone made this clear.

"You all still need work. Pizzazz is the only one taking all of this seriously! Even Stormer is more on board than you two! We're going to have to diversify the sound even more so it's more in sync with Grunge! Jetta, the guitar has got to be clearer. Roxy, your bass has to be on point! Stormer, amp up the angst! This can't be more Misfits power ballads. Dig deep for this."

Roxy fumed. "Should we go the next two days without washing our hair, too? Maybe we should rip a few holes in our Bobby Stark originals."

Covering her mouth, Stormer smiled. She turned to look out the window as the plane began turning. They would be in Seattle in a few hours. She could not wait to have a few hours to herself and see the sights. Maybe it would spark some kind of inspiration for this GrungeCon performance.

"Bloody hell, Roxy, lean to the other side, will you?"

Pizzazz put her arm on the rest next to her, smiling at her bandmates. In all, there were fifteen people on the charter plane, all of them Stingers Sound employees. It was too bad because they were all used to the Misfits' brashness and rudeness. Pizzazz could use a little stranger-harassment right about now. Plane rides always made her stir-crazy and even Roxy and Jetta's usual bickering wasn't as entertaining as it usually was. With another wry smile, she put her earbuds in and turned on some mood music, pushing the volume of your YouPod up high enough to block out the noise.


Two hours and eleven minutes after landing, the Misfits deplaned to an airport full of paparazzi. Eric led the way, fielding questions. Pizzazz stood just behind him. Dressed in a pair of denim shorts, tall black leggings and heels, she tugged at the itchy oversized sweater that kept falling off of one shoulder. Her electric-green hair sported a few black streaks and was pulled to one side under a gray slouch beanie. Like Jetta, she wore silver hoops and toned-down make-up in gray and silver. When prompted, she backed up whatever Eric said, keeping her sound bites short.

Roxy's short slip-dress of red and black plaid was topped with a worn leather jacket. Fingerless gloves, mid-thigh black leggings, wedge-heeled boots, and an iron cross on a long chain completed her look. She had put a few gray and black streaks in her platinum hair, which hung down around her face. Her sour attitude seemed to fit the mood of the day, even if it was unintentional. During their walkthrough of the airport, she kept her head down, her hands in her pockets, and her mouth closed.

Jetta's light blue fringed crop-top swayed in time with her long, flowing gray skirt with its two slits in the front. A variety of silver and black bracelets ran up both arms. The usual black mane of hair was held by a clip at the back of her head and left to fall down her back. Unlike the others, she volunteered all sorts of information on  where they would be staying, what sights they would be seeing in Seattle, and anything else asked of her.

"We'll be taking in a few shows at the Moore while we're here," she said, beaming. "We might even take over the place and do a few sets!"

Eric cringed but said nothing. "We need to get through, now. Lots to do!"

"Guitar was strong in the Grunge movement. Are you ready, Roxy?"

"I've got my strings ready," the platinum Misfit assured the reporter. "Anybody wants to challenge me to a duel better be prepared to lose!"

"Stormer, are you excited about GrungeCon?"

Pushing back a long lock of her lighter blue hair, the Misfit turned on her usual charm. "I'm looking forward to playing with the other bands and hearing how they've adapted to the Grunge sound."

In wedges, tall black leggings, a short black skirt, and gray corset, she pulled the front of her patterned black jacket together. For once, she was glad when Jetta and Roxy took the lead as they moved through the press. Their new look might have been temporary but the palette was too dark for her taste. It might have fit a specific time in music but it wasn't for her. This thought occupied her as they cleared the main part of the airport.

"Oh...wonderful," Pizzazz deadpanned.

Ahead of them, gathered around a familiar group of pastel-painted girls, was another throng of paparazzi. She held out a hand to the others, stopping them all. Eric pulled on the front of his suit, then his collar, seeing what she did.

"Don't lose your temper," he growled. "Let's just get to our car. Try and avoid making a scene, just this once."

"Fat chance of that," Roxy snorted. "I mean, have you met Pizzazz?"

From where they stood, they could hear the questions being asked of the quintet. Their last question was about the clothing they wore. Each of the Holograms wore a variation of black or gray leggings, short pleated skirts of either blue or dark red plaid, and band shirts. Aja wore one declaring "The Bluebloods". Raya sported "The Leatherettes" with Shana declaring her love for Lena Lerner. Kimber's black crop-top had one word in dull yellow across the top, "Luna". Jem, smiling for the photographers, wore a dark purple shirt with "The Holograms" emblazoned across it."

"Shana came up with these looks," Jem told them. "Hip, huh?"

"Will she be designing your Con look, as well?"

"No, we've gotten an old friend to come in just for the convention. Regine Cesaire is doing us the honor of working with us for this special event."

Pizzazz seethed at the swell of approval this brought from the assembled press. Beside her, Eric took hold of a forearm and attempted to pull her toward the car. She jerked away, already stalking toward the gathered Holograms.

"I should have known you would be here, trying to horn in on our act!"

Jem turned, surprised. "I didn't know the Misfits would be—"

"Save it, Jem! You knew! We were asked to perform the opening day of GrungeCon but you just had to have Jerrica needle you into a spot, didn't you?"

Kimber answered, her tone defensive. "Jerrica got the same invitation you did! We just accepted before you so we got the top slot!"

"It was our honor to be the opening act," Jem said, turning back toward the press. "We could not be more proud of the Limp Lizards! Headlining at this even is a huge accomplishment for them. Their music has come a long way."

"The Limp..." Pizzazz began, going pale. "They're headlining?"

Kimber could not hide her glee. "You didn't know?"

The green-haired singer turned her icy glare toward Eric. "No. I did not know."


Seconds after clearing the door to their hotel room, Pizzazz exploded. "How could you not tell us those second-rate losers were the main act! The Limp Lizards, Eric? We're opening for the Limp Lizards?! Do you know how this makes us look?"

He held the bridge of his nose.

Roxy joined in the harpy song. "Not only are we not headlining but we're playing second fiddle to Jem and the Jerks as the opening act! We didn't even get top billing on the playbill, Eric!"

"And, we 'ad to find it all out from the Holobirds!" Jetta said, waving the brochure she got from Raya. "Fine job o' management, luv. Just fine."

"Anything from you, Stormer?" Eric asked, his eyes still closed, his fingers still holding the bridge of his nose. "Stormer?"

They all turned toward the still-open door. The four of them were the only ones in the room. Pizzazz stomped out into the hall, gave both directions a glance, then came back in, slamming the door.

"She didn't come back with us? Where could she be?"

Jetta gave the sing-song answer as she went to one of the large couches. "I'll give you one little guess! Her best mate was there at the airport, or didn't you notice?"

"Are you saying...Stormer ditched us for Kimber?!"

Furious, Pizzazz pulled her phone from the carry-on bag and hit the call feature. In seconds, the voice-mail icon showed on the screen, causing a loud scream of rage. Were it not her only means of contacting their rogue member, Pizzazz would have thrown the phone across the room. Instead, she chucked it at Roxy, who was fast enough to catch it.

"Blast it! I wish we'd never come to Seattle!" The Misfits' leader shrieked. "I'm going to take a shower and wash the grime off!"

"Don't you mean, the grunge?" Roxy quipped.

"Not now, Roxy," Pizzazz warned, stalking toward the bathroom.

After the door slammed, Jetta waved the brochure again. "How you goin' to fix this, luv? It's a fine mess ya' got us in."

"There's nothing I can do," Eric told her. "This is why I wanted us to just come to the hotel from the airport and just get into rehearsal. I could have found a way to either bribe the Lizards or spike their coffee with enough lithium to knock them out cold for a week and a half."

Roxy chuckled. "Are you sure someone already hasn't?"

The man began to pace the length of the room. Outside, the bluish-purple of the mountain landscape was lost on him. All he could see was the maroon of the carpet and the huge pile of crushing defeat ahead of them. The shower came on in the bathroom and he knew this meant he had a few minutes to plan his next move. Roxy and Jetta would soon start fighting over the television or the temperature of the room and he would have that to contend with. Now, though, he had a few minutes to think. There had to be some way to salvage this whole thing.


"Where did you find this place?"

Stormer looked out over the green grass and the stand of trees. "Craig and I came here the last time he was in the States. I thought you might like it."

Kimber nodded. "I've been to the Fourth and Madison building several times while we were here for concerts but I've never heard of this place."

They sat at one of the small tables beside a long cue of what looked to be black marble. Other people enjoyed the shade of the trees or the fresh green smell of the grass. Birds chirped overhead and warm sunshine bathed the area around them. Downtown traffic was drowned out by the height of this seventh-story rooftop oasis.

"Is Regine coming?" Stormer asked, sipping her coffee.

"She's already here. It was Jem's idea for her to design our clothes so she got her yesterday to set up her workspace. Shana's with her, now." Kimber took a drink of her own Starbuck's dark roast blend. "Is Pizzazz angry?"

"Is it daylight somewhere in the world?"

The redhead giggled. "It's good seeing you again. I was surprised to get your e-mail saying the Misfits were playing GrungeCon, though. I thought maybe you'd bow out, what with the other bands coming in and all."

"You know Pizzazz. She thinks the Misfits are the only band – anywhere."

"So...she doesn't know Static Moss is coming? The Nasties?"

Stormer shook her head, trying to suppress a laugh. "She has no idea! Come the day of the concert, she and Jetta are going to lose their minds!"

"You should tell them."

"Not a chance! After the way they still treat me, they deserve what's coming."

Turning toward the high edge of the space, Kimber took in a deep breath. The area around them was one of the most beautiful she could remember seeing in the city. From here, they could see the waterfront, Smith Tower, and the famous Space Needle. It was a great view with a great friend.

"Have you had a chance to work on the melody?"

"I've had some problems with the hook," Kimber admitted. "Did you get the MP3 file I sent last week? I can't seem to get the last few notes to sound right."

"You might try bringing it down a little. We've got the right tempo, there's no need for anything fancy. Just do it like we do – slow and easy."

"You're right. I'm over-thinking it again. Are you sure you can get away in time?"

Stormer nodded. "We're doing a three song set and Pizzazz is bringing in a guitar-heavy version of I Am a Giant to close."

"But that's so synth-heavy," Kimber said, shaking her head. "How is that going to work?"

"It isn't but you can't tell Pizzazz that. I've got a whole new song for the opener, though. Eric has been on us every day to get it perfect. It's a lot like Listen Up, guitar-wise. Roxy sounds great."

Propping on one hand, Kimber gave her a sweet smile. "You really do like those bratty girls, don't you?"

"They're not so bad once you see them for who they are, not who they want you to see."

"And...who are they?"

"Broken little dolls trying to hide their cracks from the world," Stormer said, real sadness in her voice. "You've seen what kind of father Pizzazz has, distant and aloof. No wonder she's always looking for attention from Eric, he's the stand-in dad. Roxy is an only child, just like the others. She's been homeless, she fights depression sometimes. Jetta is a narcissist but there's other stuff going on, too. None of them have siblings like I do. They don't have many other friends except for each other."

"Wow," Kimber said, still smiling. "They're what grunge is all about. Alienation, irony, cynicism, and burnout, if that's not the Misfits, I'm Luna Dark!"

The other singer took a long sip of coffee. "I would be irony, I'm sure."

"A sweet girl like you among those other crazies – and you call yourself, Stormer? Yes, I would say you're the picture of Irony!"

"I am curious. How are the princesses of bubble-gum pop going to change their sound of positivity and light to songs about depravity, despair, and devastation?"

Leaning back in her chair, the redhead gave a broad smile. "Don't you worry. We've got it covered. It'll be one for the books, I promise! I did the words, myself."

"Not going to tell me, are you?"

"We've reworked the lyrics to Nightmare and We Can Make a Difference," Kimber said, lowering her voice. "Regine is going to do background vocals on a special version of Straight From the Heart for the closer. It's going to be cool!"

"Sounds like it. I'm starving! What do you say we get out of here and see if we can't grab a soft-shell burrito from La Vaca near First and Pike News?"

Grabbing her purse, Kimber stood. "Oh, you are SO on! Let's go!"


Just before eleven, Pizzazz checked the time on her phone for the fourth time. Out the window of the hotel room, bright stars shone through the Seattle haze. Just over the mountains, far from the lights of the city, they twinkled like diamonds against the blue-purple velvet of the sky. The beauty of the skyline offered little comfort but she took it in, just the same. Behind her, Eric was pacing while he ranted into his phone. He was still trying to find some angle on this new wrinkle in his not-so-brilliant plan. For her part, Pizzazz was beginning to lose patience with the whole thing.

"Just let me talk to Layla! We can work all this out!"

The door to the hotel room opened just as Pizzazz was turning away from the window. She and Eric noticed Stormer at the same time. Both of them waved her inside. Hesitant to ask questions, she came inside, closed the door, and went to where Roxy and Jetta sat on the couch. The three exchanged knowing looks. This was about to get very ugly, very fast. Pizzazz was already at the breaking point they recognized.

"Give me that," the acid-haired singer growled, snatching Eric's phone away. "It's bad enough you've booked us to open for one of the worst bands – ever – alongside Little Miss Pink-hair, but now, you're just making yourself – and us – look desperate!"

"I'm trying to—"

Pizzazz cut him off. "I know what you're trying to do! You're trying to cover your own pathetic mistakes! It's what you always do when you've made so many you look ridiculous! I'm onto you, Eric!"

He opened his mouth to respond but thought better of it. Instead, he went to the mini-bar and began to mix a very stiff drink. Pizzazz was beyond angry now, so she followed him, still ranting.

"This whole thing is just another of your fiascos! If you were half as professional as you think you are, we wouldn't always be relying on one of your schemes to book us top-notch gigs! We'd know where we stood before coming into the venues and finding out we're booked with Jem, the Limp Lizards, or even Giri, for heaven's sake!"

"I like them," Stormer nodded. "Their Geisha look is as amazing as their music! They're the next big thing in Japan, right now."

"Too bad Tony Cassini isn't our manager," Roxy said with a laugh. "Featuring them in his Venice video launched their careers."

"You hear that, Eric?" Pizzazz asked, jabbing a finger toward her band mate. "Tony Cassini picked some obscure Japanese rock group for a music video and now, they're taking off! The Misfits have been around longer and we're opening for the Limp Lizards! Let this sink in for a minute!"

On the sofa, Jetta waved her phone. "The Skulls' new single, Ripoff, just jumped ahead of ours on YouTunes...if you wanted to know."

"The Skulls..." Pizzazz said, almost exploding. "Part of your deal with Riot was, he kept out of our promotions and bookings, but when the Skulls are doing better than we are, I have to ask myself if we wouldn't be better off with him! You'll notice the Stingers aren't here in Seattle playing at GrungeCon – for half their usual fee!"

Chuckling, Roxy chimed in. "What's next, Eric? Will we be headlining the comeback tour for Bobby Bailey and the Tornadoes?"

Even Stormer laughed at this. Eric, however, was not laughing. Instead, he was tossing back the second of his drinks. Knowing Pizzazz would be relentless, he steeled himself for the onslaught the best way he knew how.

"We can't fire you as head of Stingers Sound," the green-haired woman said, her eyes narrow and fixed on him. "But we can fire you as our manager!"

"You wouldn't dare," he hissed.

Pizzazz held out a hand. Jetta stood from the sofa and slipped a few pieces of paper out from under a magazine on the coffee table. Smiling, she gave it to Pizzazz, who waved it in Eric's face.

"These are your termination papers. As of right now, you're fired. You may still be co-owner of Stingers Sound but you're not co-owner of the Misfits. Sign this and we're on our way back to Los Angeles. Don't sign it and we're still on the 6 P.M. flight without you."

"You b—"

"Oh, and before you think about getting Riot on your side, remember what you told him when you signed the Stingers on as co-owners of your music company."

"Another dumb mistake," Roxy chimed in.

"You said the Misfits were worth a lot to the company and he agreed with you. He's not going to want us to go anywhere." Pizzazz's grin was feral. "We're through letting you lead us from one terrible venue to another. We're through jumping through your hoops and ending up on the bottom."

"Who do you think you're going to get to replace me?" Eric snatched the paper. "After everything, the Misfits are music-industry poison! You've made sure of this, yourself! Your demands, your tantrums, they're legendary! No one will touch you!"

"Then we'll just have to do it, ourselves," Roxy said, shooting up off the sofa.

"You?" Eric snorted, then laughed aloud. "What do you think you can do for the Misfits that I can't? You can barely re—"

Jetta stepped in between the man and the blonde. "Finish that sentence, duck, and I'll clean your clock!"

Stormer felt a surge of pride in how the Brit stood up for Roxy. Thinking back to what she told Kimber, she knew she was right. The Misfits were their own brand of family, when it came down to it.

Eric downed another shot before taking out his pen. "Fine! You four want to see how you can fare on your own – do it! You think you're having a hard time now, just wait until the world finds out what you've done to me."

Pizzazz took the signed papers with a smile. "We haven't done anything. You've decided to leave on your own. Tomorrow morning, just before GrungeCon opens, you'll tell the press this...just like you've agree to." She waved the papers. "The first thing my father taught me, Eric, was the one thing you've failed to do. Always have a lawyer present when signing anything."

She handed the papers off to Jetta, who passed them to Roxy, who was around the sofa and heading toward the door before Eric knew what was happening. Both Pizzazz and Jetta stopped him from going after her.

"I'll be back with copies for all of us," Roxy said, going out the door.

Taking the bottle, Eric gave one final, derisive laugh. "You four think you've got it all figured out, don't you? You think you can just fire me and turn things around for yourselves overnight? You don't have a clue!"

Still laughing, he walked over to the dividing door leading to his room. With one last look at the three remaining Misfits, he took his leave of them all. One foot slammed the door after him, the final punctuation to Eric Raymond's business connection to the Misfits. Left alone, Pizzazz let out a long, measured breath. Beside her, Jetta said nothing. She just slid both hands into her pockets. Silence settled on the room as the green-haired singer went over to the window. The Seattle scenery waited for her to take it all in.

Half an hour later, Roxy came back to find Pizzazz still standing at the window. Coming around the back of the sofa, the platinum-blonde took her cue from the others and said nothing. She put the copies of the signed contract on the table then took a seat in the nearest chair. A few moments later, Pizzazz turned to face them all.

"Things are going to be rough from here on out," she began.

"We've handled rough before," Roxy assured her.

"This time, though, we're going to have to pull together. We're going to have do something we've never done before. We're going to have to ask for help."

"From Riot?"

Pizzazz shook her head. "No, Riot is only concerned with the Stingers. We're going to have to ask for help from the one person we know who will help us because we need help, not for what we can do for them." Stormer shifted in her chair when the lead singer's eyes fell on her. "Just how good a friend is Kimber Benton to you?"


Before the assembled press, Eric Raymond looked as though he were about to gargle with broken glass. Both hands gripped the sides of the lectern so hard, he might have torn it off. His first words to the assemblage were broken, so garbled he had to repeat them before he could continue.

"I've decided to end my management position with the Misfits," he said, his head falling. "It was a mutual agreement and one I'm sure will be for the best."

"Who's going to take over for you?" Came the first question.

"Will Riot step in to take over?"

"Will this affect your time here at GrungeCon?"

Pizzazz muscled Eric away from the podium. Ready for the barrage of questions, she took each one in turn, giving some of the most diplomatic answers possible. Behind her, the other Misfits were stunned at how well she handled herself. Even Eric was surprised, an expression which took over his face.

At the end of the press conference, the one-time manager slinked away to a waiting taxi. The Misfits were left waiting in the lobby of the hotel. Uncertain, Roxy looked around. It made her nervous not to know what was coming. Jetta stood with her hands in her pockets, tossing her long black hair from time to time.

"Are you sure they're coming, Stormer?"

"Yes, Pizzazz," the singer assured her.

"I hope we're not making a huge mistake."

"Me, too," Roxy chimed in.

"Me, three," Jetta followed up. "I mean, talk about throwin' in with the enemy."

Pizzazz shook her head. "Not today, she isn't. Today, Jerrica Benton might just be the saving grace of the Misfits."


"Number three." Roxy shook her head. "Jem's Straight From the Heart remix is at number three!"

"What's at number one?" Stormer asked, making another pass of gray over her eyelid.

"Golden Child," was the exasperated answer. "By the Stingers."

Jetta made certain the slender clip holding her hair was secure. Tonight's make-up was in keeping with the theme, darker grays and silvers, a burgundy lip color, and none of her usual shimmer. Tall black boots with enough buckles on them to add an easy five pounds to their weight were waiting to be laced up. In the mirror, she watched as their fearless leader paced the length of the dressing room.

"She'll be 'ere, luv. They're running behind because of traffic."

"I hope you're right, Jetta." Pizzazz stopped long enough to check her reflection. "I also hope we're not making a huge mistake."

Roxy gave a derisive laugh. "The only mistake we made was not getting rid of Eric years ago! What did we know, though? We thought we needed the jerk. Truth is, he needs us way more and we finally woke up to the facts!"

She ran her hands through her platinum hair, making sure to get the tangles out. Like the others, her make-up was toned down, grays and deep reds. Also like the others, she was dressed in just a robe.

A knock at the door made them all jump. Pizzazz almost tore it from the hinges, anxious to let in who was on the other side. "Took you long enough!"

"Hello to you, too," Kimber said, coming inside. She carried two garment bags. "We texted earlier to let you know we were having problems with traffic."

Behind her, also carrying two garment bags, was an unexpected visitor. Regine Cesair gave them each a wave before hanging the bags and unzipping them. She took out a dark blue, crushed velvet mini-dress with a delicate rhinestone pattern along one side. Holding it up, she looked at Stormer.

"I had to approximate your size, I'm afraid. Kimber said you were just one dress size up from when you last worked together, no?"

Stormer stood and took the dress. "Yes. Thank you so much for helping us out this way, Regine. We don't know what we would have done without you."

"I'm doing it as a favor to Jem. Although why she would call out of the blue with such a request, I don't know."

Kimber took out a similar dress in white and black flannel with two mock pockets on the hip. It's collar was simulated leather, with three decorative buttons. She handed the dress to Roxy, who was already shedding her robe.

"You're just lucky Jerrica was able to find Regine. She's very busy this weekend. I guess you could say Grunge is reviving her career."

Having already put on the black leggings, Roxy pulled on the tall black boots with the thick wedge heel. She wanted to make a crack about Regine's career being revived by such a music movement but the younger girl was doing them a solid so she kept her comment to herself. Besides, the dress fit well and was very flattering on her. After silver hoops and a black leather bracelet, she was looking amazing.

"About the other thing, Pizzazz," Kimber went on. "Jerrica was able to file the paperwork and overnight a copy to the attorney's office. She said she doesn't think Eric will try to back out of this. That's the good news."

"And the bad?" The Misfit was already pulling on the pleated plaid miniskirt.

"Representing the Misfits would be a conflict of interest for Starlight Music but she's put in some calls for you. She's gotten an interesting response from someone who just might be good for you."

Fastening the buttons of her black shirt-dress, Jetta spoke up. "Who might that be?"

"Tony Cassini," Kimber answered. "He's looking for new bands to manage and he's got Riot's okay to meet with you when you get back to L.A. He's representing the Limp Lizards and they're headlining here, remember?"

Regine watched the Misfits get into their different outfits. It seemed as though her approximations of their sizes and styles was on the mark. Pizzazz's top, a glittering crop with a faux undershirt proclaimed MISFITS in pink and purple lettering. With the tall black boots and dark green leggings, it looked good. Roxy added a wide black belt to her simple dress. Stormer added a black flower with large petals and a dull yellow center to her hair. Jetta also added a belt. When they were dressed, the designer delivered her own news.

"Until you find someone else, I've agreed to be your designer and stylist."

"Also as a favor to Jem, I suppose," Roxy said, unable to stop herself.

"No, as a favor to you." Regine smiled.

"To us?"

"Oui. I thought you might need an infusion of newness, seeing as how you've been with Mr. Stark for as long as you have. After a phone call with him, he agreed. I'll be meeting with him when the Con is over to go over my sketches."

Stormer smiled back. "If they're anything like these dresses, I'm all for it. These are amazing, Regine, and they fit so well!"

Pizzazz shook her head. "Who would have thought...the Misfits would fire Eric Raymond, look to Jerrica Benton for managerial help, and then be going onstage in custom-made dresses from Regine Cesair! Next thing you know, we'll all be grinding our own coffee beans and cooking our own food!"

"Let's not get crazy," Roxy said, giving her hair one more fluff.

"Hey, everyone, our single just jumped two slots. We're at thirty-one!" Stormer showed them all the stats on her phone.

"Things just might be looking up for us, after all," Pizzazz said, more to herself than to her band mates. "And to think...we have Grunge to thank for it all!"





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