Savannah slung her purse over her shoulder before glancing at her phone, double-checking the time. She nodded to herself as she saw that it was 12:30. She still had half an hour to get to work.

Even though she had had a job a few days prior, that thought felt weird to think. She was going to her job. Her first day of work.

She smiled a little at how the most logical things were "weird" to her. She was the type of person to think everything was weird; it was weird how she was alive at that moment, it was weird that, out of all the names in the word, she got Savannah. Her life was a never-ending pool of weirdness.

That point was emphasized by her phone lighting up with a very cryptic text message from Rachel:

It consisted of a bunch of letters, randomly spaced out, and the word "dick" in all caps at the end.

She chuckled, walking outside and typing her response:

What the fuck

It was short and sweet, but need she say more? She felt that simple phrase encapsulated everything she felt at that moment.

Rachel came back with a response a few seconds later:

I stole Rach's phone this is Baz 😎

She was not the least bit surprised. She assumed that the random assortment of letters represented the struggle between the two men for the phone, and the "dick" was when Sebastian had won. She responded back:

And suddenly it all makes sense. How are ya baz?

He answered back quickly:

Good! Excited for you to come today

She reached her car then, sending a reply before getting in:

Same! I'm on my way now actually

She shut her door and got buckled up, starting her shitty Toyota afterward. As she did that, Sebastian answered her:

Sweet! I gtg tho Rachel's got his foot poised to kick me in the nuts if I don't give the phone back 😆

Savannah laughed at this, not bothering to respond. The phone was probably already handed off to Rachel anyway. She put in the address of the band again (leave it to her to remember every single game in the Five Nights at Freddy's franchise but not the route to her employers' house), starting her journey afterward.

The ride passed by in a blur of rock music, just as it had a day prior. She couldn't help but love the decade she lived in; it had the best music. Mötley Crüe, Guns N' Roses, Def Leppard, Slaughter. . .hell, even Poison could scratch that brain itch she couldn't describe sometimes. Her era was full of talent, and she was working with one of the most talented bands of all.

A wave of pride suddenly washed over her. As said, Skid Row was a very talented band. Popular, too. Meaning that they could've had their pick over any fashion director with an appropriate resume, but still chose her. The only leg up she had was being Rachel's friend. Other than that, she was at a huge disadvantage. But, they still took her under their wings.

Just as Unskinny Bop by Poison was wrapping up, she pulled into the Skids' driveway. She took her keys out of the ignition and hopped out, shutting the door behind her. She felt a lot less nervous than yesterday as she walked up the driveway to the door. As long as she didn't have a major fuck-up and as long as she got her work done, she wouldn't have to worry about impromptu termination.

Again, she felt a childlike giddiness as she approached the door and used the gargoyle knocker; she'd have to get one of those.

Snake opened the door, a smile on his face. Savannah looked at him and felt some sort of weird, twisted respect; that man was still in his pajamas.

"Hey, Sav," he said cheerily. "Come on in." He waved her in as he stepped to the side.

She did, shutting the door behind her. She looked in the living room, and all of the Skids were laying on the couch, huddled together. They were also still in their pajamas. Savannah hoped she would be able to come to work like that once the initial "I need to impress them" phase was over.

Rachel lifted his head to look at her. "Hey," he grinned.

"Hi, guys," she responded. "You look comfy."

"We just woke up," Rob said, sitting up and stretching. "We figured that we'd be changing into clothes anyway, so there was no point in getting ready."

Savannah nodded; that was a reasonable explanation. "Makes sense." She noticed that Sebastian still hadn't lifted his head, and soft snoring could be heard. Deviously, she walked up to him and flicked the back of his head.

He shot up immediately. "WHAT THE—?" His head whipped around until he saw Savannah, then he relaxed. "Jesus Christ, Sav, you almost gave me a fucking heart attack. Must've drifted off after I texted you."

"How long did you guys stay up last night if you're just waking up now?" she asked, not even really wanting to know.

"Um. . .4:00 AM?" Scotti replied, a questioning twist to his voice. It was as if he was scared that he was going to be chastised by her.

"We had a party," Sebastian said with an innocent smile.

"And I wasn't invited?" Savannah asked with a joking pout.

"You didn't invite her?" Snake asked Rachel, walking over to him and shoving him playfully. "What the fuck, man? We thought her invite would be a given!"

"Well, parties aren't really her thing," Rachel answered, shrugging. "Neither are drugs. Or drinking, really. So I didn't think she'd come, let alone have any fun."

Rachel was very much correct; for being a rocker, Savannah lived a very tame life. No drugs, no parties, minimal alcohol. . . It was a way of life that her old band often teased her for. Sometimes their jests were funny, but sometimes they felt like an actual dig at her. Sometimes, their smiles would disappear and they'd look at her condescendingly. While it had bothered Savannah that her band cared that much, she was perfectly content watching from the sidelines as they stuffed their veins, noses, and mouths with stuff that would destroy them. It was kind of funny to watch them stumble along, drunk or high, while she was perfectly levelheaded.

"You don't dig drugs?" Scotti asked, sounding almost incredulous.

"Nah. I've tried them before, and I don't really like being high. I feel sick and like I don't have any control over my thoughts or actions," she responded, also shrugging. "Besides, I don't want it to bite me in the ass. You know what happened to Nikki Sixx."

Sebastian smiled slightly. "You know, that doesn't surprise me."

Savannah didn't know if she should take that as a compliment, as an insult, or as a statement that meant neither of those things. "Meaning?" she asked with a light grin similar to his.

"I mean that you seem responsible like that. More responsible than us, anyway." He laughed a little.
"We do them from time to time, minus Rachel. Not too much, though. We did coke last night, but that was it. We don't fuck with heroin or anything like that." He paused, playing with this hair while he thought about what to say next. "But you seem too good for that. Not in a bad way, of course! If anything, it's respectable."

She was getting a little tired of having the "good, innocent girl" reputation just because she didn't do drugs, but she could've been stamped with a far worse label. So, she took it. "Thanks, man. Although I wouldn't consider myself 'too good,' it's just not my style."

"Humble, too," Snake remarked, laying a hand over his heart in a joking "I'm touched" sort of way. "So, should we give the employee who's way better than us a tour of this place? She only got to see this area yesterday."

"I'll do it!" Sebastian volunteered, standing up and stretching.

"Hey, you're not the only one doing it," scoffed Rob, standing up as well. "I'm coming, too."

"All of us are," Rachel said, standing up, too. "We've all gotta be good hosts, despite us being in our pajamas."

The only one that seemed to be disappointed by this was Scotti, who looked a little too hungover to want to walk around his house when he could be immobile. He whined a little, gathering all of his strength and standing up. He winced, palming his forehead. "Fuck, my head."

"Maybe we could learn a thing or two from Sav," Snake stated, laughing. He gestured vaguely to the room they were in. "This is obviously the living room."

   "I never would've guessed," Savannah remarked.

   "You're already annoying me," Snake joked. He walked into the kitchen, Savannah and the rest of the Skids following him. "This is the kitchen."

   "Where the killer cooking goes down!" Scotti said, beaming. "Rachel makes this bomb ass rotisserie chicken sometimes."

   Savannah groaned happily at the image of that chicken; Rachel had made it for her a good number of times as well. "Fuck, that shit's so good."

   "Right?" Rob asked. "Sebastian makes mashed potatoes with it."

   "The secret is lots of salt," the blond-haired lead singer chimed in, grinning. "Salt makes anything taste good." He paused a little before adding, "That's my life motto." He laughed at himself. It was a somewhat wheezy laugh, and the smile that came with it made everyone else smile, too. Savannah had realized very early on that Sebastian had such a happy, bubbly vibe to him that his happiness could make others happy.

   "Do you add pepper in it, though?" Savannah asked him. "That's essential."

   "Of course I do! Who do you take me for, a dumbass?"

   "She would be correct in that assumption if she did," Rob smirked.

   Sebastian flipped Rob off, his grin unchanging.

   "All right, before a fight breaks out, let's continue," Snake said with a small smile at his chaotic friends. He grabbed Savannah's hand and pulled her into a room off the kitchen. "Our man cave, if you will," he said, gesturing to the room dramatically. "It's for when we're having a party or when we just get bored of the living room."

   Savannah was immediately hit with a sense of pleasure as she looked at the room; it was a very satisfying room to look at. The walls were black, starkly contrasting the gray walls of the kitchen. The Skids stuck with the leather theme, a leather couch even bigger than the one in the living room spanning a good portion of the length of the room. A big TV was in front of this couch as well, and traditional, mannish decorations were hung up on the walls (such as a stuffed deer head and sports team posters). The room was very big, so there was enough room for a bar. The bar was equipped with various drinks, and, even though Savannah wasn't a huge drinker, she was tempted to get a taste of them; they looked fancy and delicious. In addition to the bar, there was a foosball table as well as a Pac-Man arcade game.

    "Wow," was all she could say for a moment or two. When she finally could say more, she did. "I wanna live here; this is the nicest fucking man cave I've ever seen."

   "Right? She's our pride and joy," Scotti said, leaning against the doorframe for support. He felt slightly better, but still hungover to the point where he winced every so often.

   "She? If it's a man cave, why would it be called a she?" Rob asked.

   "A she-cave!" Rachel giggled.

   "Well, if Savannah's gonna be in here, it does become a bit of a she-cave," Rob mused. "Besides, why are we talking about the man cave/she-cave like it's an actual person?"

   "Because why not?" Sebastian asked. "The man cave/she-cave has hosted enough parties to achieve person status at this point."

   "Not how that works, but okay!" Snake said with a friendly eye roll. He grabbed Savannah's hand again and dragged her out of the room, back into the kitchen. He pointed to another room off the kitchen. "That's the bathroom. Nothing too interesting in there." He continued to pull her along.

   She followed willingly, looking at the Skids walking behind her and Snake. They looked more awake now, Scotti excluded; he was still having a bit of a hard time. But, they all looked happy. And she was happy about that. If this happy vibe was going to be around for the majority of her workdays, this job would be a piece of cake.

   Snake began to pull her up the stairs, which creaked a little under her weight. Once they reached the top, she took in the structure of the top floor:

   It was pretty traditional. A long hallway with rooms placed on each wall, a bathroom included in this. But, there was another room at the end of the hall that was placed in the center of the back wall, making it seem more eye-catching than the others. Its door stood ajar, and, from what Savannah could see, it wasn't a bedroom. Curiosity began to set in.

   Snake pointed to the first room on their left. "That's Sebastian and Rachel's room."

   He was about to keep moving when Sebastian grabbed Savannah's hand, pulling her from Snake. She felt like the victim of two dogs' tug-of-war match for a brief moment. "Hey, you can't not show her the inside of my room! It's too cool to just walk by!"

   Snake rolled his eyes. "All right, knock yourself out. We'll be waiting while you suck your room's dick."

   "Oh, so the man cave/she-cave can't be spoken of like a person, but my room can?" Sebastian scoffed. "Fine, I see how it is. Besides, my room would have a way bigger dick for me to suck than your rooms'."

   Without saying anything more, Sebastian pulled Savannah into the room quickly, shutting the door behind them to avoid any physical and/or verbal abuse from his bandmates.

   "You came for their rooms' dick size," Savannah said quietly. "Low blow, man."

   Sebastian laughed. "Well, look around this place and tell me that I'm wrong." He gestured around the area of the room.

   She did. The walls were dark blue, with two beds on the sleek, black floor. One of them had white covers and white sheets, while the other had black covers and white sheets. Various posters covered the room, one in particular standing out to Savannah: a huge (almost comically huge) KISS poster that almost took up an entire wall. A black bureau stood in the middle of the room, a mirror on the wall that the bureau was pushed up against. She noticed that Skid Row had already won some awards; they were hung up on the wall. She was very impressed by this, since the band had only made one album.

Once her survey was done, she said, "This room would have a dick at least ten inches long."

Sebastian nodded happily. "I think so, too. It gets it from its owner, and I don't mean Rachel." He smirked a little.

Savannah didn't know why, but that made heat rise to her face. She crossed her arms over her chest and asked, "So, how many inches would the others' rooms be?"

Sebastian wrinkled his nose as he imagined it. "Three," he said with pure disgust in his voice.

"Three?!" Savannah echoed, laughing.

He smiled at her, opening the door and ushering her out with a hand on the small of her back. "You'll see why when you look in there."

A bop to the head from Snake greeted Sebastian. "Don't come for our rooms' dicks!" he hissed.

The blond yelped, rubbing his head. "I only speak the truth!" He grabbed Savannah's hand and pulled her to the room Snake and Scotti shared. He pointed in there. "This is Snake's and Scotti's. Tell me that this isn't three inch worthy!"

She surveyed the room. The layout was similar to Sebastian and Rachel's, except the walls were gray inside of blue, and there were less posters and less nerdy merchandise. While she wouldn't go as far as three inches worthy, she would say that the previous room was a lot cooler. "It is a little more underwhelming," she said slowly.

"Hey!" Snake said shrilly.

Scotti winced at the loud, high-pitched noise that had suddenly assaulted his ears. "Not cool, Sav!" he added once he had collected himself.

Sebastian held out a hand for a high-five. "That's my girl!"

With a smile, Savannah smacked his hand. The slapping sound reverberated off the walls; only a good high five could make that sound. Scotti winced again as the brown haired woman and the blond haired lead singer looked at each other with wide eyes. "That was a good high five," she said.

"Seriously! I haven't had that good of a high five in ages! I usually end up missing the person's hand," Sebastian chuckled.

Snake continued to pull Savannah down the hall, pointing into what she assumed was Rob's room. Snake confirmed her suspicions by saying, "And this is Rob's room."

"I'm not gonna force you to look in there like a certain someone did," Rob said, grinning. "Let's just keep moving."

"You're just saying that because mine's better!" Sebastian shot back.

Snake pulled Savannah even further down the hall, periodically pointing out guest rooms that were vacant due to the bands' rowdiness. And then, they finally got to the room that Savannah was curious about: the room whose door had been ajar and didn't appear to be a bedroom.

Snake could tell she was curious. He smiled and opened the door, letting go of her hand as he ushered her inside. "Check this out."

Savannah entered the room, her mouth falling open.

It was a recording studio!

It had all of the high-tech gadgets she had only ever dreamed about. There were instruments, microphones, and speakers behind a layer of glass, and behind the glass was a control panel that she did not have the foggiest idea of how to use.

"Pretty cool, right?" Rachel asked, leaning against the wall. "Our album did so well, somehow we were able to afford this bad boy."

"I come in here to jam all the time," Scotti said. "It's a very jam-worthy studio."

Savannah sighed longingly. How she would have loved to record in a studio like this. "My band wasn't that popular, so we never got a studio like this. We had to go to those really shitty studios that are always on some shady street corner." She walked up to it and saw a door on the side of the enclosure. She was halfway tempted to just pull it open and start to sing in the seemingly high-quality mic.

Sebastian skipped up to her, pressing his hands on the glass as he looked into his studio with childlike excitement and wonder. "Well, you're a part of the team now. We'd be assholes to not let you use it."

She looked at him, not expecting that response. "You really don't have to let me do that."

"I insist. But, you're gonna have to jam later. We've got work to do, remember?" A teasing smile formed on his face.

She had almost forgotten that she was here to work. "Oh, yeah." She smiled, playing it off.

"I'm really excited to see what you'll put together," Rachel stated supportively, going up to her and throwing an arm around her shoulder as the band and her walked out.

"I'm excited, too." Before she left the room, though, she spared that recording studio one last glance. For some reason, she felt a certain pull to that studio. She figured that was the musician in her talking. She knew that, despite her new occupation, she shouldn't abandon that part of herself.

So, she vowed that at one point or another, she would try out that studio. Who knew, maybe that studio would give her another shot at singing professionally, while simultaneously allowing her to be the Skids' fashion director.

At that moment, nothing sounded more appealing.