Belle gave a final exuberant strum on her guitar and grinned falsely out at the crowd in the dark, screaming nightclub

Belle gave a final exuberant strum on her guitar and grinned falsely out at the crowd in the dark, screaming nightclub. Her fellow band mates yelled out drunkenly as they swayed slightly at their mikes. The lead singer of Pig Spleen hung on to the microphone stand and roared out an incoherent string of words, before stumbling off stage, most probably to be sick after his night of binging on cheap beer.

Belle sighed inwardly, whilst still forcefully smiling at her audience, as if she was happy to be part of this druggie, sex mad and quite honestly crap excuse for a band. She picked up her mike stand, gave a final wave for the club and walked off stage.

She was just putting her guitar back into its case in the wings, when she felt too heavy, damp hands on her shoulders. She spun round to see the red, sweating and drunken face of the lead singer leering at her.

'Great gig tonight, darling,' he rasped, showing his yellow teeth and sharing his terrible breath. Belle couldn't help noticing that he was addressing her breasts instead of her face. Typical.

'Yes, thank you Dave,' she said shortly, trying to turn away, but Dave grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

'Why are you so cold to me?' he asked plaintively, still smothering her with that alcohol tainted breath. 'We could be great together, yet all you do is play hard to get.' He drew her closer to his filthy body, putting his arms around her. She pushed him away with disgust.

'Dave,' she said slowly, looking into his eyes. 'You are completely drunk and probably high on something. The next time you try to talk to me, I would appreciate it if you could make the effort to be sober.'

Dave guffawed loudly, but backed off a little.

'I'll get you yet, my beauty,' he slurred. 'I'll have you yet.' He staggered off into the nightclub, and as he passed Belle he slapped her butt and laughed again. Belle stood rigidly and had to take several deep breaths to calm herself.

'Cool it,' she told herself quietly. 'It's not a good idea to punch the person who employed you and is paying you money. Even if he is an obnoxious, sexist, disgusting pig. Just breathe.'

She had almost gotten over the indignity of being manhandled by the lead singer of Pig Spleen when Davina sidled up to her in the wings. Blonde, with blue eyes, a flat stomach and orange skin, Davina was the other guitarist in Pig Spleen and considered Belle as complete scum, just because Belle wasn't blonde, wasn't in love with tanning beds and wasn't as willing to show as much flesh. In turn, Belle considered Davina a complete bitch, just because…well, because she was a bitch.

'You really shouldn't keep turning down Dave, honey,' she simpered in a stupid high voice. 'Face it; he's the best you're going to get.' She giggled and started to put away her guitar in her bright pink guitar case next to Belle.

Belle started to breathe deeply again. 'Ok, so she's not paying you anything,' she said to herself silently. 'But you still shouldn't punch a band mate, even if it is Davina. You're better than her, just calm down.'

A man in a hideous white suit had taken the stage and had turned on the microphone, which crackled into life.

'And now, ladies and gentlemen,' he said loudly, reading of a small piece of paper. 'Please give it up for our next band, Twilight!'

As he scurried off, smoke flooded the stage and deep blue lights brightened to reveal Twilight. Belle felt the air in her lungs freeze. At the front of the stage, gently grasping the microphone was the most gorgeous creature she had ever seen. He was a tall, slender man dressed in tight black trousers, a shiny black shirt and a long black coat that reached the floor. In contrast to his dark clothing his skin was almost white, unblemished and flawless. His eyes, almost half closed were pitch black, like a shark's, yet seemed to have so much emotion in them. His dark hair was loosely curled and perfectly sleek. He opened his blood red lips and started to croon softly a quiet and mournful song, which echoed around the now almost silent nightclub.

Gradually, Belle began to hear the faint playing of guitars. The lights rose up to reveal two guitarists, backing the singer in hushed voices. The guitarist at the far end of the stage seemed to be an albino. His pale skin was framed with long, pale hair which came past his shoulders. Even his eyes seemed to be pale and he was dressed in flowing white clothes, as if to emphasize the whiteness of his skin. He smiled slightly as he sang.

.The other guitarist, the one nearest to Belle, was not nearly as extraordinary as the other members of his band. He was a teenager, his greasy face unfortunately riddled with acne and slightly round. He was a lanky youth, and somehow seemed very uncomfortable, and maybe a bit angry at being on stage with the two beautiful people beside him. He kept scowling at the albino and the lead singer with annoyance as he played the guitar, without much talent.

Belle was so transfixed on the singer, she barely noticed Davina at her side until she whispered into her ear.

'Dear Lord,' she breathed. 'That singer is so…wow.'

'Yeah,' Belle murmured back. 'Wow.'

Suddenly, a clash of cymbals exploded onto stage. The lights came up on a muscled and wild looking man playing the drums furiously. Unlike the singer, his blonde-brown hair was tangled and untamed as it fell to his shoulders. A stubbly and rough beard grew on his chin. His sleeves were rolled up, showing toned and powerful arms. He seemed fierce as he played, his brow furrowed with concentration.

'That drummer's quite hunky too,' Davina tittered.

However, Belle was still gazing at the singer. At the cue of the drums, he began to sing louder, but still kept that smooth and silky sound to his voice. Belle watched as Twilight played, almost hypnotised by this strange and wonderful band. Almost too soon, the song was over and Belle found herself clapping energetically. The lead singer smiled and prepared to sing another song for an encore.

Davina unexpectedly let out a loud squeal in Belle's ear, causing her to jump as it shook her out of her trance. Following Davina's eyes, she saw a group of orange, skinny girls in mini skirts waving, drinks in hand.

'Oh good,' Belle said sarcastically. 'The Barbie dolls have arrived.'

Davina flounced off to her friends and, as Belle had nothing better to do, she followed out of the wings and into the club. She grabbed a small drink from the bar and hung back a little to listen to their conversation.

'Oh my god Davina, have you seen that band up on stage?' one of them asked, excitedly.

'Have I?' Davina answered. 'Oh...Em…Gee! That lead singer is so hot!'

'Innit though?' one of them sighed. 'His name's Mason. Sexy goth alert!'

Belle rolled her eyes, but kept listening for more information.

'Do you know him?' Davina asked breathlessly.

The girl looked a bit disappointed. 'Nah. I'm a massive fan of Twilight though, I follow them around everywhere.'

'Who's the weird one on the end, then?'

'You mean the albino? He's Lucien. He is so adorably cute. He looks like he would be so sweet.'

'And the drummer? He's quite fit too.'

'That would be Gary. A real man, that one. God, I wish I could just take him and-'

'Chantelle!' Davina giggled. 'Too much information!'

'Oh, and that's geeky Gilbert, by the way,' Chantelle said offhand, pointing to the spotty guitarist. 'I personally think he brings the entire band down. He just doesn't have 'the look'.'

Reluctant to agree with anything these girls said, Belle could see very clearly that Gilbert seemed to be the misfit of the band. He stood out like a sore thumb. While the others were cool, good looking and had a kind of mystic air about them, he was nerdy and awkward and was much less talented. What was more, he looked like he knew it and resented it.

Twilight finished their song and the club erupted into applause, cheers and whooping. Belle joined in with gusto, and watched Lucien, Gilbert, Gary and, of course, Mason wave to the crowd and start packing up.

'Wow,' Davina sighed. 'You know, that Mason's someone I would like to know better.'

For some reason, Belle felt angry and wanted nothing more than to slap Davina to the ground. Wait, was she feeling…jealous? No, of course not, she couldn't be. She didn't even know this Mason and just because Davina was thinner than her, didn't mean that she was more beautiful. What's more, she wanted to slap Davina down to the ground most of the time anyway, so nothing was new there.

'Well,' one of the girls said slyly. 'You might have your chance, Dav, cause I just happen to have the address of the hotel and room number of where Twilight are staying.' She waved a piece of paper tantalisingly.

Belle started at this, pushed through the group of girls and snatched the paper.

'Um, excuse me?' Davina said scathingly. 'Who invited you into this conversation?'

Belle was so deep in thought she did not answer. A plan was forming in her mind, a crazy plan. Would it be so terrible if she went to Twilight's hotel room and try to meet them? Yes it would be. That would reduce her to nothing more than a psycho stalker. But still, Mason was extremely beautiful, and because she was a musician, she could talk to him about songs and bands and stuff. It was the perfect excuse.

Belle decided that she would go to the hotel tomorrow night. Anything to meet this mysterious Mason and his band.