It was only after Savannah sat down and was looking at the Skids expectantly that they realized that they had no idea how to conduct an interview. A lot of their staff was hired based off of resume or Doc's recommendation alone, meaning that there was hardly any talking about the employee themselves. But, since Savannah didn't have that, they had to get to know her, not her past experience or her connections to their manager.

   Of course, the Skids did perform one genuine interview: and that was the interview of Sebastian Bach. They were not near famous enough to have a manager at the time, nor did they know anyone that was capable. Meaning that they had to do the whole thing by themselves. But, that was years ago, and none of them could remember how the hell they pulled it off.

   They stole glances at each other, stumped. What would they ask? How would any of the classic interview questions you hear on TV correlate to Savannah's potential job? Call them uncultured, but they didn't think that her perception of what color she would be would hold any bearing on whether or not she would be employed.

   Rob spoke up first. "We have no idea how to do this, so bare with us," he said, smiling in a breezy way that played off his lack of knowledge. "Uh. . .fuck. Oh! What's your. . .work ethic like?" He sounded unsure, but it was a question. Better than nothing.

   That hesitant question prompted excited nods from the rest of the Skids.

   Savannah felt like she could relax a little. Sure, Rachel had said that professionalism was not necessary, but it made her feel better that the Skids had even less of an idea of what they were doing than she did. "When I'm involved in work, I'm fucking involved. I'll work my ass off. I'll put my heart and soul into whatever's needed done. And I can say with certainty that I will be involved with being your fashion director."

   The Skids looked at each other with satisfied nods, happy with her response.

   "All right. So, how would you describe yourself? How would others describe you?" Sebastian asked from the floor. He grinned afterward, seemingly stoked he came up with a decent question.

   Savannah couldn't help but smile at his smile. "Well, as for my description, I'd say I'm very loyal, very honest, and I'm able to work well with others." She thought for a second. "As for others, they'd say I'm talented, hardworking, and. . .very driven. I'm very willing to put all of my effort into something."

More satisfied nods from the band. Snake changed the positive tone, though. "So, Rachel told us you were kicked out of your old band. How did that happen?"

Savannah squirmed uncomfortably. If she answered honestly, it would not be a good look for her. But if she didn't, it also wouldn't be a good look, since Rachel knew the actual reason. She inhaled for courage and began. "My band members were unhappy with my behavior. Apparently I was rude, power-hungry, and stubborn."

This time, the band glanced at each other worriedly. That may be a problem.

You saw this worried glance and prayed that Rachel would come in to save you, which he did:

"Bad behavior is subjective," he told his band. "I've known Sav for years, and I've never seen any of that in her. Besides, our standards are probably looser than her band."

Sebastian nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, that's true."

Rachel decided to push this train of thought along by adding, "We'll never know unless we give her a chance. Dismissing someone off of hearsay alone is kinda shitty."

"Agreed," Scotti chimed in. "So, I know I'm kinda putting you on the spot here, but when you look at us, what look comes to mind for shoots and performances?"

The Skids looked at each other again, happily this time, since they had finally started to get the hang of this interview thing.

Savannah looked at all of her potential colleagues, studying their builds and their faces. "Sebastian with lots of bracelets, no shirt, an open leather jacket, and tight, leather pants. For some reason I'm thinking half black, half white. I don't know why, but he gives me leather vibes."

   Sebastian smiled slightly. That was something he could get behind.

   "In my mind, Rachel has a darker look. Lots of eyeliner and maybe even black eyeshadow under the eye. I see him in a loose, black T-shirt of some band—maybe KISS?—and ripped jeans," she said. "For some reason I'm thinking he could also make a hat work."

   "I'm down with that," Rachel replied, smiling. He knew she was nailing this, and she was charming the hell out of him as well as Sebastian, Scotti, Snake, and Rob.

   "Snake is a little harder to work with," she mused quietly.

   Snake gasped in faux hurt. "SAV! How could you say that?!"

   She laughed. "Shut up and give me a second."

   Snake put his hands up in defense, falling silent.

   "Jean jacket," Savannah finally responded, snapping her fingers. "I'd want it to have a lot of pins on it. Band related, most likely. I'd want him to also wear ripped jeans, but black ones. I'd want a white T-shirt to be under the jacket as well."

   "Wow, you're good," Rob commented.

   "Yeah, if someone can make Snake look badass, they're very good!" Scotti added in jest.

   Snake hit his friend playfully.

   "All right, Scotti, you're up," she said, studying the guitarist. "Hmm. You're also harder to work with."

   "HA!" Snake shouted from beside him.

   "Wait, I got it. A tank top would suit you," Savannah told him. "White, preferably. And some tight, leather pants. Not as tight as Sebastian's, but still tight, you know? And I think your hair would look good kinda frizzy, but still straight."

Scotti nodded in approval, imagining it. "I like how you think."

"And finally, Rob." She looked him up and down, trying to visualize an outfit for him. She was stumped for a moment or two, but then smiled when she had found a compatible outfit. "Rob would look awesome in a black shirt. A really tight one that's ripped at the sleeves, so it's all tattered to the point where it kinda looks like a tank top. And I'm getting ring vibes from him as well. Oh! And he needs to have his hair in his face. He's got the perfect hair to have that alternative look."

She took a moment to picture the Skids in the outfits she had described, posing for the camera, and nodded, satisfied. "Again, this is only off the top of my head and one potential look. I could probably come up with something even better if given more time."

Sebastian nodded at her, smiling that goofy way he always did. "Impressive. I think I could rock leather pants."

"And I could totally rock a jean jacket!" Snake said back. "Sav, you're a genius."

She smiled, trying to stay humble. But, in reality, she was pretty impressed at how quickly she had managed to conjure up outfits for them. "It's nothing. You guys act like I'm Jesus or something." She realized how unfunny of an analogy that was, fighting the urge to roll her eyes at herself. She could never be funny around other people; it always looked sad.

Sebastian, being Sebastian, began to rapidly bow at her feet. "You are Jesus! Only Jesus has that fashion sense!"

She rolled her eyes at the man whose hands were rhythmically hitting the floor as he bowed. "Stop bowing, fuckin' weirdo."

"Not until you realize how Jesus-y you are!" he replied through the mass of hair that flipped around as he bowed.

She sat in silence for around twenty seconds, and when he still hadn't stopped, she sighed and gave in. "Okay, I'm Jesus-y. Now stop, you're gonna give yourself brain damage."

"Already got it, baby," he joked, halting his bows and sitting normally once more. His hair was a mess; it was all fluffed out and in his face, causing him to blow away what he could.

"Oh, he definitely does," Rob agreed. "Have you seen him perform? The man whips himself around so fucking much that I wouldn't be surprised if he passed out onstage."

"I don't think I have," Savannah responded.

"Oh, then I've gotta show you!" Sebastian hopped to his feet, energized in a way that reminded her of a very overdeveloped kid. "I like to flip my hair a lot," he said with a smile, beginning to do just that in a train of vigorous head movements.

Savannah watched him, stunned at how he wasn't passed out on the floor. "Jesus Christ!"

"Right? It's wild. We can do it sometimes, but definitely not as much or as hard as him. I flip mine softer," Snake said.

"'Cause you're a pussy!" Sebastian remarked beneath his sheath of hair.

"Yeah, that's it, bozo," Snake spat back sarcastically. "It's not like I wanna have my brain functioning properly in later years."

"His brain isn't even functioning properly now, let alone in later years," Rachel said, laughing a little.

"You know, you guys are just jealous!" Sebastian said in a singsong voice, still flipping his hair. "I could do this shit for hours."

"All right, let's see it, then," Savannah challenged.

"You're on."

Sebastian continued to abuse his own brain for around twenty more seconds, but then he straightened, looking a little pale. "Whoa." He steadied himself with a hand on the side of the couch. "I need to sit."

So sit he did, right back on the floor.

"Someone's not as tough as he once thought," Savannah mused from her seat.

Sebastian laid down on the floor. "Oh, fuck off. It's not like you could do any better." His words were upset, but his tone was joking.

"Very true."

The band plus Savannah watched as the color slowly returned to Sebastian's face. "No, carry on," he said from the floor when he processed the silence. "I'm listening."

"What professional employers we are," Scotti said, smiling goofily. "One of our interviewers is literally horizontal on our floor."

"Hey, I dig unprofessionalism," Savannah said. "I'm nowhere near professional, either. Professional people have sticks up their asses."

"And this is why I like her!" Sebastian chimed in, weakly lifting an arm and pointing in her general direction. The compliment made her grin a little, a shy undertone to it.

"Okay, before Baz goes under completely, do any of you have any more questions?" Rachel asked his friends.

Savannah blinked. Was the interview almost over already? It felt like she had just gotten there. In reality, she kind of had. Normally, interviews were a lot longer than this, but these were the Skids. They were running out of material.

There was quiet as the band contemplated that question. Snake cut in, though. "While we think on that, Sav, do you have any questions for us?"

Savannah thought about it. "Well, I do have one."

"Shoot."

"You guys all live together," she stated, "but Doc comes and goes. Would I live with you guys or would I come and go like Doc and the rest of your team?"

Snake nodded. "Good question." He looked at his band. "What do you guys think?"

"I'm biased, but I'd love for her to live with us," Rachel replied, grinning.

"I think that maybe we would start off with you living at home," Rob said. "And if we came to find that this would be, you know, a semipermanent thing, then living with us would definitely be a possibility. In my opinion, that is."

"I agree," Scotti said. "We've asked a lot of our team members to live with us, because it'd be easier if they did; their help was needed every fuckin' day. But, they've all refused. I think we get a little too rowdy for their taste." He scratched the back of his neck with a shy smile. "So, that means that there is definitely a spot open. We've got so many extra rooms we don't use. But, like Rob said, I'd kind of want to get a feel for your commitment to us and how often your help would be needed before taking a step like that. Your personality and how well you mesh with us would be a big factor, too, but I can see that that's not an issue."

"Preach!" Sebastian said, still laying down. "I agree with all of that."

"Me, too," Snake and Rachel responded in unison, causing them to look at each other with amused expressions on their faces.

"Sounds perfectly reasonable to me," Savannah replied. "Oh, I do have one last thing. What's the pay like?"

"Doc told us it would be two thousand bucks per week, and your check would come weekly," Rachel answered.

She blinked. That was better than she could have hoped! Damn, this band must be doing even better than I thought to be able to afford shit like that, she thought. "Wow, that's fucking sick."

"And that's not even the best part," Rachel continued. "Because we'd never know when we'd need your services, you'd be getting paid for your time off as well. It never felt cool to dock someone's
pay because of our inconsistencies. That's how Doc runs things. Plus, I may have doubled down on that rule to Doc so you could get more. I'd say we could mail the checks to you every week, but since you live so close, it'd be easier to just pick 'em up."

This job was seeming more and more desirable, and more and more unreal to Savannah. "Holy shit."

"Cool, right?" Snake asked with a grin.

"Very. So, do you guys have any last questions?"

"Yeah, I've got one," Sebastian said, finally sitting up. Very slowly, though, as to not have a repeat of his pale-faced regret. "What's your availability? Are there any days that are, like, off-limits?"

"Nope," she replied. "Ever since my firing, I've been pretty damn available."

Sebastian smiled at her. "Great. Then, I'm fresh out of questions. You guys?" He looked at his friends.

"I'm out, too," Rob said.

"Ditto," Snake said.

"Me as well," Rachel added.

"Same," Scotti said. "So, I think that about calls it quits." He stood up, as did the rest of the Skids (Rachel had to pull a still slightly queasy Sebastian up).

Savannah stood up, too. "All right. Thanks so much for having me and for considering me for this position." She held a hand out to Scotti for a professional, goodbye handshake.

He smiled and gladly accepted, grabbing her hand and shaking it. "You're welcome. Thanks for coming."

"It was my pleasure." She turned to Snake and shook his hand as well. "Thanks, Snake."

"Of course," he replied, smiling at her.

She turned to Rob next, shaking his hand once more. His grip was soft as he smiled at her. "You're awesome, Sav. Expect to hear from us very soon."

"Thanks. I will." She then turned to Rachel, smiling slyly. She tried to tackle him in an obnoxious hug, but he put a hand on her forehead, stopping her from advancing on him.

"Nice try, squirt," he remarked lovingly.

Pouting playfully, she stepped back. "Fine, bitch."

And, finally, she turned to Sebastian. She extended a hand for him to grab, but, instead of accepting that offer, he brought her into a firm hug.

Savannah supposed she should have expected someone as innocent and happy as him to be a hugger, but it took her by surprise. She hugged back, smiling. She was suddenly aware of how good he smelled: some real nice cologne wafted off of him.

"Thanks so much for coming, Sav!" he said cheerfully.

"It was no problem," she replied, patting his back awkwardly. Even though he was so thin, he gave the firmest, nicest hugs she had ever experienced. She was clearly unsure how to respond to that, hence the awkward back pat.

She felt the absence of his warmth as he pulled apart, causing her to do the same.

"Expect your results by tomorrow," Rob said with another friendly smile.

"All right." She walked to the door, opening it. "I hope to see you guys soon."

"Us, too," Sebastian said. "Bye!" He waved happily, a wave which the rest of the Skids imitated.

She waved as well, slipping out of the house and shutting the door behind her. She exhaled. She thought she did pretty good. They seemed to like her. I mean, if Sebastian despised her, he wouldn't have hugged her. That was a good sign.

She walked to her car, even more sure that she wanted this job now. Of course, there was still a little cloud of apprehension; what if she didn't like it? But, that cloud was shrinking each day.

She got into her car then, eagerly awaiting the text or call from Rachel that determined her fate.