Categories > TV > WWE > I Got Here In A Rock Band
Prologue: March 2010
“I cannot believe I managed to get through LAX without being chased down by a pap.”
Robin Leigh, better known as Rynne Janine, actually managed something akin to a smirk as she mumbled to herself, before tipping the hotel employee who’d helped carry her things up to the room.
She had been slated to play a show in Italy tomorrow night, with the rest of her bandmates in F4. Or rather, former bandmates. Just a few hours earlier, she’d had a huge blowup with two-thirds of the remainder of the group, and without a second’s hesitation, both Missy Leigh and Leesie Rennings had voted to fire her. With a two to one majority, she’d been informed that her services would no longer be needed. The show in Milan had been canceled, and the artist formerly known as Rynne Janine had hastily packed her bags, taking a red eye flight back to the United States.
“Rynne Janine is dead. Time to reclaim my own identity.”
Knowing the other girls as well as she did, she knew that the label had not yet been informed of her firing. She also knew that their manager, Tina Jameson, would keep it that way until everyone had had time to cool down, just in case they asked her back.
“Well, those two can go fuck themselves, I wouldn’t come back if they paid me to.”
“Well you can knock on Ed Wood but it won’t do you no good, because all my heroes are dead in Hollywood!”
The former drummer sighed, digging her cell phone out of her bag. There were only two people in her contacts list who had the Murderdolls tune for their ring tone, and that was because both of them were the founding members of the group. Taking a deep breath, she answered, knowing all too well who it was.
“You wanna tell me why the fuck I just got a call from Missy asking me to fly out to Milan and fill in on drums for the remainder of the tour?”
Robin winced at the sound of her mentor’s voice on the other end of the phone. Joey Jordison was not a happy man, and that much was obvious.
“Well, I could tell you over the phone, but I’d prefer to do it in person.”
“I already told that narcissistic lead singer of yours, and now I’m gonna tell you, I am not fucking flying to Italy!”
And who could really blame him for being annoyed? Joey was holed up in the Hollywood Hills right now, helping to finish recording the new Murderdolls album, with Wednesday 13.
“If I were in his shoes right now, I’d be pissed that I got bothered with this, too…” the former drummer thought to herself, running a hand through her purple and black locks.
“You don’t have to, I’m in LA.”
“Fuck, Robin, what happened?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here. I’m in the London West Hollywood, room 167.”
“Wednesday, did you get that?”
Robin rolled her eyes, managing a small smirk. Of course Wednesday would be listening in.
“Yeah, I got it. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Two telltale clicks told her that the call had been ended. With another roll of her eyes, she placed her phone back into her handbag.
“I just love how they never say hello or goodbye,” she commented. “Speaking of goodbyes, I gotta call Punk in a little while. I don’t want he and Shannon to get this from someone else…”
Phil “CM Punk” Brooks and his girlfriend, Shannon Spruill, better known as Daffney, were two of the southerner’s closest friends when she’d first moved to Chicago, after F4’s debut album had hit number 1. As such, they deserved to hear this from her.
If the former drummer were honest with herself, she had more than a few phone calls to make to her loved ones, and then to the label. Furthermore, she needed to start getting her career back on track.
“Which means I’ve got to hire a manager. Fuck.”
Fortunately, for the first time in almost 24 hours, something was about to go right for Robin Leigh. A knock sounded on her door, and, knowing it was too soon to be Joey and Wednesday, she decided to call out before she opened said door.
“Who is it?”
“Robs, it’s Teej, let me in!”
The rock star tripped twice over her own two feet as she raced to the door, wrenching it open quickly.
“Tina? I thought you were in Milan!”
“Yeah, well, I told Missy and Leesie that if they were going to fire you for such a bullshit reason, that while they were looking for a new drummer, they could also find a new manager.”
“How did you find me?”
“Robs, I’ve been babysitting you for how long? I know how to track you down if I need to,” the brunette retorted, as she strode briskly into the suite.
“Well, that’s awesome. Because I have a huge favor to ask of you.”
“You need a manager.”
“…Since when did you become a mind reader? Never mind, forgot, you know me better than anyone else in the band ever did.”
“That’s because you’re my little sis, and my bestie.”
“First thing’s first, how long are you planning on staying out here?”
Robin eyed Tina closely, before sighing heavily.
“I don’t know. All I know is that I want out of Chicago. I want to be as far away from all of them as possible, and as spoiled and Diva-esque as this is going to sound, there’s not room in Chicago for both Leesie and myself.”
Tina flashed a bright smile at her new client.
“Tell you what, hon, you just relax and leave all the details to me. I know the perfect place for you. Meanwhile, I guess I need to start making phone calls, and doing damage control. You know what they’re going to make this look like.”
Robin shot her friend a knowing smirk.
“Yeah, I do, but I know my image and my career are in safe hands. Do what you do best, Teej.”
“I cannot believe I managed to get through LAX without being chased down by a pap.”
Robin Leigh, better known as Rynne Janine, actually managed something akin to a smirk as she mumbled to herself, before tipping the hotel employee who’d helped carry her things up to the room.
She had been slated to play a show in Italy tomorrow night, with the rest of her bandmates in F4. Or rather, former bandmates. Just a few hours earlier, she’d had a huge blowup with two-thirds of the remainder of the group, and without a second’s hesitation, both Missy Leigh and Leesie Rennings had voted to fire her. With a two to one majority, she’d been informed that her services would no longer be needed. The show in Milan had been canceled, and the artist formerly known as Rynne Janine had hastily packed her bags, taking a red eye flight back to the United States.
“Rynne Janine is dead. Time to reclaim my own identity.”
Knowing the other girls as well as she did, she knew that the label had not yet been informed of her firing. She also knew that their manager, Tina Jameson, would keep it that way until everyone had had time to cool down, just in case they asked her back.
“Well, those two can go fuck themselves, I wouldn’t come back if they paid me to.”
“Well you can knock on Ed Wood but it won’t do you no good, because all my heroes are dead in Hollywood!”
The former drummer sighed, digging her cell phone out of her bag. There were only two people in her contacts list who had the Murderdolls tune for their ring tone, and that was because both of them were the founding members of the group. Taking a deep breath, she answered, knowing all too well who it was.
“You wanna tell me why the fuck I just got a call from Missy asking me to fly out to Milan and fill in on drums for the remainder of the tour?”
Robin winced at the sound of her mentor’s voice on the other end of the phone. Joey Jordison was not a happy man, and that much was obvious.
“Well, I could tell you over the phone, but I’d prefer to do it in person.”
“I already told that narcissistic lead singer of yours, and now I’m gonna tell you, I am not fucking flying to Italy!”
And who could really blame him for being annoyed? Joey was holed up in the Hollywood Hills right now, helping to finish recording the new Murderdolls album, with Wednesday 13.
“If I were in his shoes right now, I’d be pissed that I got bothered with this, too…” the former drummer thought to herself, running a hand through her purple and black locks.
“You don’t have to, I’m in LA.”
“Fuck, Robin, what happened?”
“I’ll tell you when you get here. I’m in the London West Hollywood, room 167.”
“Wednesday, did you get that?”
Robin rolled her eyes, managing a small smirk. Of course Wednesday would be listening in.
“Yeah, I got it. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Two telltale clicks told her that the call had been ended. With another roll of her eyes, she placed her phone back into her handbag.
“I just love how they never say hello or goodbye,” she commented. “Speaking of goodbyes, I gotta call Punk in a little while. I don’t want he and Shannon to get this from someone else…”
Phil “CM Punk” Brooks and his girlfriend, Shannon Spruill, better known as Daffney, were two of the southerner’s closest friends when she’d first moved to Chicago, after F4’s debut album had hit number 1. As such, they deserved to hear this from her.
If the former drummer were honest with herself, she had more than a few phone calls to make to her loved ones, and then to the label. Furthermore, she needed to start getting her career back on track.
“Which means I’ve got to hire a manager. Fuck.”
Fortunately, for the first time in almost 24 hours, something was about to go right for Robin Leigh. A knock sounded on her door, and, knowing it was too soon to be Joey and Wednesday, she decided to call out before she opened said door.
“Who is it?”
“Robs, it’s Teej, let me in!”
The rock star tripped twice over her own two feet as she raced to the door, wrenching it open quickly.
“Tina? I thought you were in Milan!”
“Yeah, well, I told Missy and Leesie that if they were going to fire you for such a bullshit reason, that while they were looking for a new drummer, they could also find a new manager.”
“How did you find me?”
“Robs, I’ve been babysitting you for how long? I know how to track you down if I need to,” the brunette retorted, as she strode briskly into the suite.
“Well, that’s awesome. Because I have a huge favor to ask of you.”
“You need a manager.”
“…Since when did you become a mind reader? Never mind, forgot, you know me better than anyone else in the band ever did.”
“That’s because you’re my little sis, and my bestie.”
“First thing’s first, how long are you planning on staying out here?”
Robin eyed Tina closely, before sighing heavily.
“I don’t know. All I know is that I want out of Chicago. I want to be as far away from all of them as possible, and as spoiled and Diva-esque as this is going to sound, there’s not room in Chicago for both Leesie and myself.”
Tina flashed a bright smile at her new client.
“Tell you what, hon, you just relax and leave all the details to me. I know the perfect place for you. Meanwhile, I guess I need to start making phone calls, and doing damage control. You know what they’re going to make this look like.”
Robin shot her friend a knowing smirk.
“Yeah, I do, but I know my image and my career are in safe hands. Do what you do best, Teej.”
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