After a long night of Savannah debating over whether or not to call Sebastian, it was the day of the photoshoot. She woke up from a deep sleep and irritably pawed at her blaring alarm, shutting it off with the motion. The sight of her phone made her remember how she had chickened out in terms of calling Sebastian the previous night, and that made her feel like a loser. She wasn't in high school anymore. It wasn't appropriate to be all nervous to talk to someone on the phone (especially a colleague). But, what had she done? She had chickened out.

   She stared at her phone in irritation. Her social anxiety used to be really bad when it came to calling people on the phone, but she had reached a completely foreign level of zen these past few years. She didn't know how, so she simply dismissed it as "growing out of it." But, clearly she hadn't, because she was having a whole crisis over calling her cute colleague.

   Shaking her head at herself, Savannah hopped out of bed and began to get ready for the day. She dressed herself in a Mötley Crüe Shout at the Devil T-shirt with a black, long-sleeved shirt underneath it. Ripped jeans complimented her legs, as did the fishnet tights she wore underneath them.

   She looked at herself in the mirror and nodded in approval. When she was younger, she had gone through a whole phase of not knowing what type of clothing style suited her. It felt like whatever she wore, it didn't really suit her, nor did she like what she was wearing. But, she had come to find that dark looks really complimented her appearance somehow. And she loved the clothes she wore, for the first time in her life.

   She sat down at her vanity to tame her bedhead and do her makeup. She began to play some music, since she could not do even the simplest tasks without some sort of music filling the silence.

   She got her eyeliner and her hair done in record time, and, after brushing her teeth, it was now 10:30, a full hour before she had to get to work. She took this opportunity to grab her phone, open it, and stare at Sebastian's contact, unsure of how to make the first move.

   She decided on texting, but how would she go about that? Obviously, opening up with "hi, it's Savannah" would be a given, but what would happen after that? She didn't want the conversation to fall flat like so many of hers had.

   But, she knew that she would have to text him or call him at some point. They worked together. Matters would need to be discussed via technology. So, why not get the ball rolling now?

   So, she typed out a message and hit send in a random burst of courage:

   Hey baz! It's Sav! Real excited for the shoot today man

   As she read it over again, she cringed. How lame did she sound? God, she wished that phones would let people unsend messages, thereby getting rid of it from the receiving person's end as well.

   She shut it off and threw it across her bed, groaning. Socializing would never get easier, she decided.

   Her phone made a small ding, letting her know of an incoming text message. She shifted uncomfortably in her bed before grabbing it, praying that it wasn't Sebastian that had answered her.

   It was, and his response was just as nice as he was:

   Hey Sav!!! So happy you texted man!!! I'm so excited too 😊

   Savannah couldn't help but wonder why he tolerated her lame ways. But, she was very grateful he did, and that he was being sweet about it.

   But, now, she ran into a new predicament. How the hell would she respond to that? It's not like he had given her lots to work with.

   Thankfully, he added something else to his message:

   Oh by the way, we know that you aren't supposed to be here for another hour but do you want to come a little early? Us guys are craving some Sav time!! 😁

   She thought about it. She didn't have anything else to do, so why not? So, she typed out a response and hit send:

   Yes ofc!! I'm craving some skid time too!! I'll be there in ten

   Sebastian responded back quickly:

   Killer!! See you then!!

   Smiling at his use of the word "killer," Savannah got off her bed and grabbed her purse, placing her phone in it. She then exited her house, entered her car, and began to drive.

   It didn't take long for her to arrive at the Skids' house, obviously. Once she got there, she went up to the door and used the knocker, once again.

   Rachel answered the door, smiling at her. "If it isn't my favorite fashion director."

   "If it isn't my favorite bassist." She wrapped her arms around Rachel, knowing full well he wasn't much of a hugger.

   He scoffed and pushed her off. "Sebastian fucks with hugs, not me," he said with a joking scowl.

   "Move, then, if you're not gonna hug me," she scoffed in return, with the same joking scowl.

   "Fine, bitch," he retorted, stepping aside.

   Savannah once again entered the Skids' humble abode, where they, much like yesterday, were all spread about the couch. This time, though, they all looked awake and relatively not hungover. They were still in their pajamas, though.

   Sebastian looked up first. "Hey, Sav!"

   The others followed his lead, saying greetings of their own.

   As it did yesterday, time passed by in a blur of talking. It was strange: Savannah often got tired of seeing the same people over and over again. Normally, she needed a few days to recharge. But, she never got tired of the Skids. The animated way they talked and the laughs they shared with her would never get old.

   But, she did have to fulfill her duty at some point. So, around a half an hour before the rest of their team was supposed to get there (hair people, makeup people, etc.), she had them get dressed in all of their outfits and surveyed the rock 'n' rollers as one, collective group. That way, she wouldn't have to do it amidst all the other hustle and bustle of their team.

   Sure, she looked at all of them, but her gaze kept traveling back to Sebastian in his unbuttoned button-down shirt. But, she managed to keep herself focused enough to say, "You guys look like fucking rockstars."

    "Thanks to you!" Snake replied sweetly, going up to her and giving her a loving side-hug.

   She returned it, laughing. While she would never say it aloud, she was proud of herself for putting together such an awesome look for the guys. She didn't even have to tweak anything!

   A bit later, the rest of the Skids' team required for the shoot arrived, and they got them all prettied up: hair fluffed, eyes decorated with what Sebastian called "guyliner" and black eyeshadow, blemishes covered. . .

   Once they were done, the band looked badass. Even more so than they already were.

   The team had finished up a little early, so Sebastian and Savannah were just hanging out in the location of the photoshoot (the living room, that way the shoot would feel more personal) while waiting for the photographer. The rest of the band was doing their own thing, but neither Sebastian nor Savannah knew exactly what "their own thing" was. They were too preoccupied with each other.

   "Hey, check this out," Sebastian said, going over to a small, decorative KISS accessory on the fireplace. He flipped a switch on the front of it, causing a red-tinted liquid that resembled blood to spurt out of Gene Simmons' mouth.

   "Holy shit!" Savannah walked over to it and got real close, surveying the magic. "Where the hell did you get this?"

   "Not sure! It was a birthday present," he answered with a sweet smile. He leaned in close, too, his cheek almost touching Savannah's. "Isn't it cool? As if this house couldn't have been more rock 'n' roll."

   "So cool." She tried not to shy away from him, since she had a habit of doing that when she was nervous. So far, she was succeeding. "I wanna give whoever made this a big ass hug. A KISS fountain? Fucking genius."

   "You read my mind, sister."

   That's when a knock sounded; the photographer was here.

   "I got it!" Scotti appeared out of nowhere, dashing for the door. Both Savannah and Sebastian recoiled from each other in surprise, and she couldn't help but feel a little disappointed at the newfound distance between them.

   Scotti answered the door and began conversing with the photographer. Whoever he was, he had a very thick British accent. Sebastian, hearing this accent, visibly slumped. "Fuck me."

   Savannah looked at him. "What's up?"

   "That's Ross, the douchiest photographer to ever exist," he mumbled to her. "We've never had shoots with him before, but I've heard horror stories about him. From the Crüe, especially." A small smile formed on his face as he said the name of her favorite band.

   "Fuck. What makes him so douchey?"

   "From what I've heard, he just takes a lot of digs. Like. . .he thinks he's above rock 'n' roll."

   Savannah looked at him sympathetically, reaching up and patting his shoulder. "Hey, no one's got a bigger mouth than you. Whatever he says, you'll have something better to throw back at him."

   He smiled, flattered. "And what if he pussies out and leaves?"

   "Then he won't be getting paid."

   He thought about that and nodded. "Good point."

   Savannah hesitated before adding, "Besides, I'm pretty good at digs, too. I can defend you."

   Sebastian knew full well he didn't need the defending, but he still appreciated it nonetheless. "Thank you, my hero!" he drawled in an over-exaggerated tone, hugging her. He was so tall that he had to bend down, and she had to stand on her tiptoes to reciprocate.

   "You're welcome," she giggled. "Now, go verbally kick Ross' ass."

   He nodded with resolve, pulling apart. He looked and saw Ross walking in and Scotti shutting the door behind him. Just by the expression on the latter's face, he was not pleased with Ross' attitude.

   Ross surveyed the place with an almost judgmental look on his face. He looked at Sebastian and made a sort of pained expression at seeing his getup. "Are you Sebastian?"

   "Yeah, man," Sebastian answered, sticking out his hand for him to shake.

   And shake hands they did. It looked so awkward that Savannah averted her gaze for a moment.

   "And where are the others?" Ross said in that accent, eyes darting around the room.

   Sebastian glanced behind him, and suddenly, Rachel, Rob, and Snake appeared in the room. "Here they are."

   "Great. Let's get this over with then." Ross smiled, but something about it was mean-spirited. Savannah already didn't like his energy.

   Sebastian nodded, and him and the band awkwardly stood in front of the camera that Ross had just set up. They knew he would want to dictate their poses, so they didn't even bother.

   "Rachel and Scott, kneel down," he ordered.

   Scotti and Rachel did, grunting a little at the effort.

   "Great, you two look ridiculous. Okay—"

   "Ridiculous?' Don't you want us to. . .I don't know. . .look good?" asked Snake with an awkward half-smile.

   "Looking ridiculous is the whole point," Ross said matter-of-factly. "Just let me do my job, okay?"

   Sebastian glanced at Savannah and raised his eyebrows in a "see what I mean?" sort of way.

   She met his eyes with a look of recognition, pretending to gag after.

   Thankfully, Ross didn't see. But Sebastian did. He smiled and crossed his arms, waiting for his pose recommendation.

"And Sebastian, keep your arms crossed like that. Lean against Dave," Ross ordered.

Sebastian nodded and did what he was asked, leaning against his guitarist.

"Rob, you put your elbow on Dave's shoulder."

Rob obeyed, grabbing his own hand as his elbow rested on Snake's shoulder.

"All right, good. Everyone looks fine. Now do that stupid smolder that you guys do," Ross said in a mean-spirited tone.

Sebastian laughed, amused at Ross' attitude. "'Stupid,' huh?"

"Yes, 'stupid.' When have you ever seen anyone walking down the street like this?" He puckered his lips in a poor imitation of a rocker smolder.

Savannah buried her head in her hands; this guy would get insufferable quick.

"That's true. But hey, we look awesome when we do it! Therefore it's not stupid," Sebastian answered.

"Listen, Sebastian, I'm the photographer. Let me do my fucking job. If I say something looks stupid, guess what? It's fucking stupid! I've been in this business a long time, and I have stellar reviews. I know what looks stupid."

"And you also know how to be a dick," Savannah mumbled to herself in a burst of anger. It had only hit her what she had said after she saw the band plus Ross staring at her, wide-eyed. Sebastian was looking at her in what seemed to be a combination of amusement, approval, and fear for her.

Ross, however, had mostly amusement on his face, but also a touch of anger. "And who the fuck are you?"

She blushed, not at all wanting to be in the spotlight of this conversation. "I'm Savannah. The fashion director. I put together their outfits."

"Oh. Well, sweetheart, you made them look like fools."

"Thanks."

"That's nothing to be proud of."

"I thought you said looking ridiculous was the whole point of this thing?" She smiled, knowing she had stumped him.

Ross looked mad at her comeback. "Hey, listen here—"

"I'm sorry, I don't want any trouble—"

"I'm not finished, dingbat! I—"

"Hey, shut up, asshole," Sebastian spat, cutting Ross off. "Leave her the fuck alone."

"Just be nice and we're not gonna have a problem," Savannah said before Ross could talk again. She tried her best to give a genuine, kind smile. She honestly didn't want any trouble with Ross, but her impulsivity evidently had a mind of its own.

"I don't get paid to be nice," Ross grumbled. "This conversation is over. Just make your faces and let's get on with this."

Sebastian looked at Savannah, who looked embarrassed, yet also proud of herself somehow. He was proud of her, too. He found it sweet that she would get so wound up because of Ross' cheap digs. He then looked to the camera, smoldering like only he could.

During the whole photoshoot, and during each rotation of poses that Ross made them do, Savannah's eyes were glued to Sebastian. He had an air of confidence surrounding his poses, and he looked so intense, as well as beautiful. She didn't say anything more to Ross, despite her building want to do so with every snide remark he made. She didn't know what his deal was, but chalked it up to jealousy. After all, Skid Row was a group of young, attractive men that could make even the most unconventional clothing look good. And what was Ross? A middle-aged man that photographed them instead of living that life of glamor.

Once it was all over, he packed up his stuff. "Goodbye. It was a pleasure," he remarked sarcastically.

Rachel rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Ross. I bet everything came out great."

"They did." He turned to Savannah, and she tried her best not to cower under his gaze. "Tell your 'fashion director' to control that mouth of hers. Telling me how to do my job." He scoffed afterward, as if he had just made the best point in all of history.

   Sebastian opened his mouth to retort, but Rob hurriedly cut him off. "We will, sir. Thank you."

   Ross gave a curt nod, grabbing his equipment and walking to the door. He opened it, walked out, and was about to shut it when. . .

   Sebastian ran over, stuck his head out the door, and said, "We'll tell her to control her mouth when you learn to control yours, dickbag!"

   He then slammed the door before Ross could protest.

   Immediately, Skid Row whirled on their vocalist. "What the fuck, Sebastian?!" Rachel shouted.

   Sebastian blinked, unsure of just what he had done wrong. During the whole photoshoot, the Skids were making remarks right back to Ross. Why couldn't he? "What?"

   "You can't just call our photographer a dickbag," Snake said with a shake of his head.

   Sebastian spluttered, looking from Savannah to Snake. "But—but she did it!" He did not mean to throw her under the bus whatsoever. However, he needed to know why her talkbacks were acceptable but his weren't.

   "Yes, but if our fashion director is a snot, that won't affect our business negatively," Rachel said back. He glanced at Savannah apologetically before continuing. "But if our lead singer is, people won't want to take pictures of us. Look, little digs are okay. But insults? Not okay, man."

   Sebastian lowered his head. "I didn't like the way he talked to Sav."

   "I know, I know. Me neither. But you've gotta learn to keep yourself cool, man. You can't call our photographers any names," Scotti said, patting the taller man's shoulder. "You called him 'asshole' at the beginning, too, and that also won't fly."

   There was a brief pause, so Savannah decided to jump in. "Sorry for causing all this," she laughed awkwardly, a little flustered due to Sebastian's want to stick up for her. "I shouldn't have engaged him or offended him."

   "Nah, you're all right! You're new," Rachel said, slapping her on the back. "You're learning. Sebastian, however, should have the hang of this by now."

   Sebastian huffed. "I guess. Sorry."

   "You're okay. Just. . .don't cause any trouble with business, or we'll have your head." The way Snake said that was somehow both joking and serious; an undertone of sincerity hit Savannah, and it made her glance away awkwardly.

   Sebastian giggled with the same quantity of awkward; it had hit him, too. "All right. I'll behave."

There was a brief period of silence, which Savannah chose to break. "Well, I think I'm gonna head out, you guys."

Sebastian looked at her, eyebrows furrowed in a pathetic-looking way. "Aw, how come? You don't wanna hang out a little?"

It broke her heart to hear his disappointed tone, and she was beginning to consider it when Snake cut off her train of thought:

"No, let her go, Baz. We've got some band stuff to do today."

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. What band stuff? He hadn't been told of any band stuff.

Savannah was kind of happy with this, that way she wouldn't have to deal with the weird tension that was in the room. "All right. I'll see you whenever, okay?"

The band said their agreements and gave her their usual hugs goodbye, and she slipped out of the house and began her drive home.

Meanwhile, the Skids were staring at Sebastian, scrutinizing. It was obvious that Sebastian Bach was in for a long day, all because of his big mouth. Little did he know, this would only be the beginning of his talking-tos.

And, little did Savannah know, she would get dragged into them.

—

Y'all think I'm exaggerating with Ross, but bruh this character is legit cannon LMFAO- if any of you have watched Supergroup on vH1, y'all will know what I mean 😭