` BACKSTAGE PASS

[KoZTA]

Everything that happens starts here.
The people waiting to present awards.
Award storage. Everything.
But who knows? We might get some new excitement.

[elLIE]

TONGUE-TIED BLEEDING FROM YOUR EYES

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even Christ himself would cringe from the sight of your scars. [/i][/size][/font] [/center]

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Lars had been waiting patiently backstage with a few note cards, looking over them fleetingly, not really caring if he memorized them or not. They'd given him some crafty lines to go along with his wack outfit. Typical they'd make him the jester of the evening. But, he just kept reminding himself that's what he was there for. That fact though, became less and less appealing as time drew on. His mind solid on none other than Luke. It was hard to take things lightly when you had some maniac breathing down your neck for no reason whatsoever... or at least no reason you could recall.

Most people had looked at him expectantly when it was announced he had lost the award for best male vocalist. Lars simply clapped for Mr. Skiba. Looking around himself at the eyes who'd expected a bigger hissy perhaps. Lars wasn't that idiotic, he was a good sport.... and a fan of Alkaline Trio. He himself thought Matt had an exceptionally better voice than himself. So it wasn't as if one award loss was killing him.

Now here he stood, trying to shake off his somber mood for the crowd, a feat he was accustomed to doing on various down days when the band had to play.

Hands were clapping and Lars was directed to start walking down the long runwayish path that held the mic and podium at the end. He gave the people something around what his lines said, adding a little bit more of a drawl and possibly added characters just to be sure the family programming would be raving over it tomorrow. He gave out his nominee set of best Pop female vocalist, and then finally the winner, clapping along with the people as Katy Perry made her way on up in whatever odd end get up she was wearing, Lars grinning a little with the 'coincidence'. He pecked her on the cheek, giving her a half hug and handed her the little gold man, walked down from the stage and to the back.

Once there Lars loosened his tie a little, feeling more relaxed. He began making his way back towards the seating area, exchanging words to Matt Skiba himself in a small congratulations. He was just about to turn into the open door way that led out before he figured he might as well take the opportunity to check his attire, use the bathroom, or just chill before he was subjected to sit though more awards, regardless if his band could win something in that time.

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while you were counting sheep, I'll count my lucky stars...

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YOU WERE THE LAST GOOD THING I EVER SAW.
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001. COUNT 423
002. MUSIC Alkaline Trio - Cringe
003. NOTES doom doom doom. THIS POST IS FOR LUKE 80! DON'T POST AFTER ME!PLZKTHNX!
004. ATTIRE x

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[Luke Smith]

He couldn't see much, but he could tell who that was coming from the stage - mostly because of the schedule, but hey mistakes could be made right? He hung out beside the corner waiting for the right time. Yes, Luke was trying to piss him off. He found that he was getting rather successful with it, and he might just pick it up as a full time hobby.

Just waiting for the right moment, he came from around the corner, looking straight ahead. He knew what he was trying to do, and he'd more or less pull it off. Stiffening the muscles in his shoulder, he shoved his weight forward a bit walking by the little musician, only letting himself purposefully run into him. It was just a taste of what he really wanted to do to him. He wanted to make the point, over and over and over - with his fist.

He turned sharply letting his eyes lock onto the other with a certain malice, "Watch where you're going, cock sucker." Venom soaked words were paired with a shove to the other. He was intoxicated enough to leave good judgement behind, and tonight was not the night to cross his path. Simply put, Luke didn't know and didn't care if he was a cocksucker, but judging by his character, he wouldn't put it beyond Lars. God he had so much hatred for this pathetic mother fucker, it didn't make any sense to him, but he just let it keep happening.

"Just keep walking, like you always do." Luke scoffed, turning slowly and walking away again. Sure, he wanted to hit him. He dreamed about it, but he could not throw the first punch - not this time. This was all about making Lars look like an ass hole and he was certain that if he kept pushing those buttons he would get a stir crazy response from him. It was only a matter of time.

[elLIE]

TONGUE-TIED BLEEDING FROM YOUR EYES

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even Christ himself would cringe from the sight of your scars. [/i][/size][/font] [/center]

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Lars was halfway down the hall to the band's dressing room before he flipped sideways from his shoulder. He staggered as he waited breifly for a fleeting and rushed apology. But as his eyes locked onto his opressor Lars face went sour.

Lars was simply baffled at Luke's overall behavior. Lars hadn't spoken more to the man other than business matters before the tour; discussions in which he seemed fine, if not pleasant to be around. Lars knew he hadn't done anything directly to him outside of tonight, so what was the stick in his ass? Lars could very well hold himself accountable if he knew what he had done. The problem was he knew he hadn't done shit.

Regardless of his trying to sort things out, and wanting to, Lars's blood was boiling. He had tried to let things be before they went too far on the carpet. He didn't see a point in fighting over nothing. But now, Lars had been assulted more than once, and that was enoguh for his instincts to tell him to fight back.

"What the fuck's your problem, man?" Lars asked indignantly, balling his fists as Luke walked away. There was no fucking way Lars would let him walk.

A few quick steps forward and Lars's hand was uncleanched and clawing the back of Luke's collar. He swung the taller around before shoving him forcefully with two hands on his chest, "I asked you a fucking question."

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while you were counting sheep, I'll count my lucky stars...

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YOU WERE THE LAST GOOD THING I EVER SAW.
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001. COUNT 243 ew.
002. MUSIC MM
003. NOTES that. sucked.
004. ATTIRE x

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[Luke Smith]

He couldn't help it. When instinct took over, there was only so much you could do. The blood under his skin began running at the speed of sound and was heating up. Lars demanded an answer in a rather physical way. Luke had finally gotten what he wanted, thank the good lord. Being pissed and being happy about it, he caught his balance as the angry young musician shoved him. A sinister smirk was on Luke's face, perhaps he'd crossed the line of insanity.

Reaching out, he grabbed Lars' shirt, pushing him against a wall, "As if you don't know what you're doing. I've heard better lies from nigerian con artists. So while you're doing what you're doing and getting away with it, just know this. I'm never going to just stand by and watch," He pulled him from the wall and pushed him away, glaring at him with an icy hatred. This guy just royally pissed him off all around.

"Are you sure you really want to do this? Face it kid, you can't win. You're with a chick who is otherwise a whore, the only reason your here is because of a fanbase that is rapidly growing - not that it's saying much because america just voted Kirs Allen as the idol so their taste in music sucks, other than that what do you have? Nothing. You are nothing. You're just life support for a dick." Was he taunting Lars? Deffinately. He wanted him to get pissed off, to be completely frustrated just like he had been. Let the kid throw the first punch, it would make him seem much more noble. Sort of. Maybe not, but he just wanted to see how far she could push until he finally had a meltdown and went beserk. Apparently Trell liked to talk rough and tumble, but Luke didn't so much as see that side coming out in him.

When he didn't move, Luke scoffed, "Yeah. Just what I thought. Silence speaks bounds."

[elLIE]

TONGUE-TIED BLEEDING FROM YOUR EYES

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even Christ himself would cringe from the sight of your scars. [/i][/size][/font] [/center]

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Lars stared at him as he was pinned against the wall, his eyes flicking wildly into Luke's trying to figure out what the hell he was on or if he'd just lost his head. His breath reaked of cheap beer, but Lars didn't take that as a good excuse. Lars took his hands from Luke's wrists to simultaniously push him away as he was pushed away, like two feral cats making circling teases before going at each other's throats.

"Only you gotta fucking know," Lars spat, "That I have no fucking idea what you're talking about.... It'd work wonders if you fucking filled me in on why you were being suck a fuckass all the sudden."

His eyes went to slits as Luke went on with his dialouge, eyebrows furrowed as he simply went off attacking anything and everything. "Why would you fucking drag her into this?" he questioned angrily. He remembered Riley complaining about Luke a few days ago, so obviously Lars wasn't the only one being picked at here. "It shows what a fucking dick you are to insult people behind their backs.... and MY FANS VOTED FOR ADAM!!"

Lars coudln't take this guy anymore. There was no more beating around the bush to be done, Lars wouldn't let himself be insulted over nothing. If this guy had an empty vandetta against him, then Lars would personally address it to the best of his ability. The nice guy act was spent and worn thin. He had already let a fast fist fly towards Luke's mouth before he could stop and think not to. "I'm not gonna waste my words on a fucker like you," he said as a last retort before deciding to continue the conversation with his fists.

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while you were counting sheep, I'll count my lucky stars...

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YOU WERE THE LAST GOOD THING I EVER SAW.
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001. COUNT 288
002. MUSIC Bouncing Souls
003. NOTES better >.>
004. ATTIRE x

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[Luke Smith]

Finally! All the time had paid off when Lars took a swing at him. That only gave Luke the advantage to do just the same. It smarted his jaw just as he'd moved his head back. His hand moved up, examining the area for just a moment. So the fucker wanted to fight, then so be it.

Luke charged towards his opponent, hoping to perhaps knock his ballance off and gain an advantage - as if he needed one. All it did was probably attract more attention and make more of a rucus, lessening the ammount of time Luke would have to inflict damage on his poor little soul. "You're such an ignorant," Luke swung a fist towards the face of the other as hard as he possibly could, "little bastard!"

He retreated for a moment, "So the little miss hasn't told you anything? Well then, that's not much a suprise since she doesn't tell anyone anything!" He went back towards him for round two, and he could pick up in his peripheral vision as people finally locked onto the idea that a fight had just broken out backstage at the grammys. Well it was all or nothing, and Luke attempted to assault the other as much as possible before they broke them all apart.

He figured at the very least he'd have a few seconds left - not including the little bitch slaps at the attempts to get back at each other. Luke knew Lars was taking shots at him, but adrenaline didn't much let him pay any attention at all to the injuries inflicted. No, he'd feel that all later unfortunately - but it felt so good just getting it all out there - to finally beat the shit out of this little punk ass bitch.

[elLIE]

TONGUE-TIED BLEEDING FROM YOUR EYES

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even Christ himself would cringe from the sight of your scars. [/i][/size][/font] [/center]

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Lars's head slammed back into the wall as Luke pinned it there between his fists. Like some wrestling movie Lars felt blood drip from his mouth. The last flare in hi being went off and he lost all humanity as the animalistic adrenaline pumped through him forcing him into offense. Lars drove a hard knee into Luke's groin as he retreated off him, spitting a glob of red out his mouth before getting ready for another attack.

Sure, Luke was bigger, but when Lars had drive it was difficult for one as big as Luke to hold him back. Lars disregarded anything he said at this point, having promised to himself to keep the conversation solely physical now, considering there was no use in debating a nonexistent issue.

Lars was feeling various parts of him begin to smarten as the two went at each other. For one viewing it was a fair enough fight, both inflicting what seemed like equal damage to each other. Neither of them were amazing ring-men fighters, and Lars would admit he'd gotten pretty shabby after he stopped being involved in the muck of New York City, he needed Fight Club like something terrible.

Not to long after someone had gotten security in to save Lars's face and Luke's unborn children, men in loud yellow shirts bigger than Luke and Lars combined. Lars tried prying out of one's grasp but there was no avail: Lars was spent and the man was like brick. He asked a tired but still fuming Lars if he wanted to call the cops but Lars shook his head no, whipping access blood from his nose so he could breathe properly.

Words were further exchanged among the small crowd, and Lars spotted press coming at a quick pace to the scene. With one quick duck Lars had gotten out of the guards grasp, walking briskly down the hall to his dressing room to seek a sink and privacy.

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while you were counting sheep, I'll count my lucky stars...

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YOU WERE THE LAST GOOD THING I EVER SAW.
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001. COUNT 333
002. MUSIC Placebo
003. NOTES doom doom doom. a night of WASTED HISTORY CORRECTING got me writing back in shape. har har har.
004. ATTIRE x

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