Categories > TV > WWE > I Got Here In A Rock Band
Six Months Later
“Robs, I don’t think this is such a good idea…” Tina trailed off, as she, Robin, and Phil made their way into the Universal Studios building.
The now solo rock star rolled her eyes, sighing, and tugging her black leather jacket closer around her body. Even when she was dressed down, Robin still stuck out like a sore thumb. She’d went to great lengths to try and blend in with the rest of the crowd, keeping her green eyes concealed behind a large pair of sunglasses, and instead of the normally skin tight clothing she wore both on and offstage, she’d opted for a baggy red t-shirt, and faded flared jeans, with black combat boots. Her hair, which had been chemically straightened, and dyed both black and purple when she’d been fired from F4, was now back to it’s natural state, a dark auburn color and cascading down her back in bouncy curls.
On this particular evening, the girls along with Phil, were heading to a taping of TNA Impact. Phil was going to see his now fiancée, Shannon, win her very first run with the Knockouts title. It’d been ages since she’d seen Robin, and he thought it would be a nice surprise for the redhead to be there to see it.
“Teej, I get special treatment all the time. I just wanna be a normal fan for tonight. Please?”
Tina sighed, acknowledging her defeat.
“At the very least, you might wanna cover your hair.”
Tina giggled quietly and Phil bit back a smirk as a look of horror rapidly appeared on Robin’s face. She went pale, and then before he could stop her, she’d snatched Phil’s trademark Cubs hat.
“HEY!”
“Just until we get into the building! I don’t WANT to steal Shan’s thunder, and if a pap follows us in, that’s exactly what will happen.”
“But it’s MY hat!”
“Oh, suck it up, Chicago.”
Phil pouted childishly, but fell silent, knowing she was right; and sure enough, true to her word, as soon as they had entered the building and taken their seats, the redhead returned the cap, tousling her locks as she shook them out.
“So, is Shan stoked for her big win tonight?”
Phil rolled his eyes, noting that this question came while Robin was sending a text message from her Blackberry.
“Shan’s ecstatic. I think she’s gonna be worse than I was over that world heavyweight title the first time I got a run with it. And why are you on that damned thing right now, huh?”
“Sorry, had to reply to this email from my lawyer. Apparently Missy and Leesie are trying to say I have no right to any royalties from anything that was recorded while I was still with the group. I’m not afraid to play hardball with those two mongrels, and they should know that by now. If I have to go to court to get the money that I’m due for the work that I did, then so be it.”
“Alright, for your own good, I’m confiscating this for the duration of the show,” Tina interjected, swiftly snatching the Blackberry from her client’s hand.
“NO!”
“Robin, you’re addicted to the Crackberry. It’s not going to kill you to let go of it for one night,” Phil agreed.
“Besides that, I’m your manager, it’s my job to handle these things. You just do what you do best, which is write and perform, and let me handle the legalities,” Teej added.
“You’re both lucky that I love you,” the redhead grumbled.
“Robs, we appreciate that you’re a workaholic. We appreciate that you’ve worked very hard to make your solo career take off. But tonight is about relaxing, having a good time, and catching up with old friends, alright? So, the Crackberry is gone until we get back to the hotel.”
Tina’s words were punctuated with an arm around the redhead’s shoulders and a tight squeeze.
“Alright, alright, fine, I give. You’re right, and besides, this is the first time in years I’ve been able to escape the paps,” she replied.
“That’s the spirit!”
“You have NO idea how bad it was in the UK when she was touring with the Murderdolls. The tabloids were merciless,” Tina stated, leaning around her client to speak with the tattooed Chicagoan.
“That bad, huh?”
“Oh, man, it was the worst. You think the ones over HERE are bad? The ones in England are MERCILESS. And they’re all convinced that Joey and I are dating,” Robin agreed.
“Oh, for the love of fuck, he’s old enough to be your father almost!”
“Her point, exactly.”
The small talk continued through most of the show, three friends blissfully unaware of the irritant sitting in the row behind them, with a large camera pointed directly at them. He went unnoticed through Shannon’s match, even though he got several shots of the three screaming their applause and congratulations for the new Knockouts champion. In fact, he went unnoticed for almost the entirety of the taping.
Almost, but not quite.
It was during the first match in a best of five series, featuring Beer Money Inc. and The Motorcity Machine Guns, that the sound of a camera snapping finally caught the rock star’s attention. She turned, just as Chris Sabin was climbing the ladder in the middle of the ring, to find the offending Paparazzo. The man stared, before he realized what a precarious position he was in.
Robin Leigh had a reputation, a reputation that preceded her almost to the point of infamy. Why, you ask? Very simply put, the woman had a hatred that was unrivaled of the paparazzi. She had no problem giving her fans their money’s worth, but when she wasn’t onstage, she was on her own time, and that meant she was living in her personal life. Robin didn’t take too kindly to having photos of her personal life splashed across every trashy tabloid magazine in existence. And when she found someone in the process of taking those photos, she tended to handle it not with curses and shouts, but with her fists.
Before the paparazzo in question had time to vamoose, and before either Phil or Tina had the chance to pull Robin back, she’d splattered the paparazzo’s nose all over his face with a well aimed right hook. From there, she leapt over the back of her seat, and tackled him.
Unfortunately, this was also the exact moment that James Storm nailed Chris Sabin with a beer bottle, in the middle of the ring. Instead of reacting to this, the crowd had focused on the rock star/paparazzo smackdown in the front row. Both teams ceased what they were doing to glare at the redhead, who was so busy trying to jerk out of the full nelson Phil now had her locked in, that she failed to notice this.
“LET ME GO, DAMN IT, I’M GOING TO MURDER HIM!”
“You. Are doing exactly what you did not want to do, which is cause a scene. CALM. THE FUCK. DOWN,” Phil snapped.
By Phil and Tina finally managed to get the redhead back in her seat, security had already made their way over. The paparazzo was forcefully escorted out of the building, while the other three were escorted backstage.
“Dixie Carter sends her deepest apologies for the incident. The photographer has been removed from the building and his camera was confiscated. Ms. Carter requests that you enjoy the VIP area for the remainder of the show, in hopes of making up for it.”
“Thank you, tell her we intend to do just that, and we apologize for causing a scene,” Tina replied, smiling kindly at the guard. The smile stayed in place until he was out of sight and out of earshot.
“Sit. Now.”
Robin glowered at her manager, but followed the command, pouting childishly as she did so.
“Drink this and try to calm down, would you? I told you this was gonna happen, we should have been back here the entire time,” Tina continued, taking a seat next to her client, and placing a can of Pepsi firmly in her hand.
“Teej, since you seem to have this under control, I’m gonna go find Shan and congratulate her again,” Phil stated, a wide smirk now plastered on his face.
Robin eyed Tina warily, and waited until Phil was halfway down the hall, before shouting after him.
“DON’T FORGET TO USE PROTECTION!”
Despite her best efforts to look stern, the brunette couldn’t keep a giggle from escaping.
“I’m sorry for causing a scene, Teej. I really didn’t mean to.”
“I know, it’s okay. I just wish I’d had my camcorder handy, that was one hell of a tackle!”
“Oh, why bother with a camcorder, the TNA crew caught it all. Right when they were supposed to be getting the ending to our match. By the way, thank you SO much for stealing our thunder, firecrotch.”
The girls looked up to see two very angry Detroit natives glaring down at them.
“…We are so fucked.”
“Robs, I don’t think this is such a good idea…” Tina trailed off, as she, Robin, and Phil made their way into the Universal Studios building.
The now solo rock star rolled her eyes, sighing, and tugging her black leather jacket closer around her body. Even when she was dressed down, Robin still stuck out like a sore thumb. She’d went to great lengths to try and blend in with the rest of the crowd, keeping her green eyes concealed behind a large pair of sunglasses, and instead of the normally skin tight clothing she wore both on and offstage, she’d opted for a baggy red t-shirt, and faded flared jeans, with black combat boots. Her hair, which had been chemically straightened, and dyed both black and purple when she’d been fired from F4, was now back to it’s natural state, a dark auburn color and cascading down her back in bouncy curls.
On this particular evening, the girls along with Phil, were heading to a taping of TNA Impact. Phil was going to see his now fiancée, Shannon, win her very first run with the Knockouts title. It’d been ages since she’d seen Robin, and he thought it would be a nice surprise for the redhead to be there to see it.
“Teej, I get special treatment all the time. I just wanna be a normal fan for tonight. Please?”
Tina sighed, acknowledging her defeat.
“At the very least, you might wanna cover your hair.”
Tina giggled quietly and Phil bit back a smirk as a look of horror rapidly appeared on Robin’s face. She went pale, and then before he could stop her, she’d snatched Phil’s trademark Cubs hat.
“HEY!”
“Just until we get into the building! I don’t WANT to steal Shan’s thunder, and if a pap follows us in, that’s exactly what will happen.”
“But it’s MY hat!”
“Oh, suck it up, Chicago.”
Phil pouted childishly, but fell silent, knowing she was right; and sure enough, true to her word, as soon as they had entered the building and taken their seats, the redhead returned the cap, tousling her locks as she shook them out.
“So, is Shan stoked for her big win tonight?”
Phil rolled his eyes, noting that this question came while Robin was sending a text message from her Blackberry.
“Shan’s ecstatic. I think she’s gonna be worse than I was over that world heavyweight title the first time I got a run with it. And why are you on that damned thing right now, huh?”
“Sorry, had to reply to this email from my lawyer. Apparently Missy and Leesie are trying to say I have no right to any royalties from anything that was recorded while I was still with the group. I’m not afraid to play hardball with those two mongrels, and they should know that by now. If I have to go to court to get the money that I’m due for the work that I did, then so be it.”
“Alright, for your own good, I’m confiscating this for the duration of the show,” Tina interjected, swiftly snatching the Blackberry from her client’s hand.
“NO!”
“Robin, you’re addicted to the Crackberry. It’s not going to kill you to let go of it for one night,” Phil agreed.
“Besides that, I’m your manager, it’s my job to handle these things. You just do what you do best, which is write and perform, and let me handle the legalities,” Teej added.
“You’re both lucky that I love you,” the redhead grumbled.
“Robs, we appreciate that you’re a workaholic. We appreciate that you’ve worked very hard to make your solo career take off. But tonight is about relaxing, having a good time, and catching up with old friends, alright? So, the Crackberry is gone until we get back to the hotel.”
Tina’s words were punctuated with an arm around the redhead’s shoulders and a tight squeeze.
“Alright, alright, fine, I give. You’re right, and besides, this is the first time in years I’ve been able to escape the paps,” she replied.
“That’s the spirit!”
“You have NO idea how bad it was in the UK when she was touring with the Murderdolls. The tabloids were merciless,” Tina stated, leaning around her client to speak with the tattooed Chicagoan.
“That bad, huh?”
“Oh, man, it was the worst. You think the ones over HERE are bad? The ones in England are MERCILESS. And they’re all convinced that Joey and I are dating,” Robin agreed.
“Oh, for the love of fuck, he’s old enough to be your father almost!”
“Her point, exactly.”
The small talk continued through most of the show, three friends blissfully unaware of the irritant sitting in the row behind them, with a large camera pointed directly at them. He went unnoticed through Shannon’s match, even though he got several shots of the three screaming their applause and congratulations for the new Knockouts champion. In fact, he went unnoticed for almost the entirety of the taping.
Almost, but not quite.
It was during the first match in a best of five series, featuring Beer Money Inc. and The Motorcity Machine Guns, that the sound of a camera snapping finally caught the rock star’s attention. She turned, just as Chris Sabin was climbing the ladder in the middle of the ring, to find the offending Paparazzo. The man stared, before he realized what a precarious position he was in.
Robin Leigh had a reputation, a reputation that preceded her almost to the point of infamy. Why, you ask? Very simply put, the woman had a hatred that was unrivaled of the paparazzi. She had no problem giving her fans their money’s worth, but when she wasn’t onstage, she was on her own time, and that meant she was living in her personal life. Robin didn’t take too kindly to having photos of her personal life splashed across every trashy tabloid magazine in existence. And when she found someone in the process of taking those photos, she tended to handle it not with curses and shouts, but with her fists.
Before the paparazzo in question had time to vamoose, and before either Phil or Tina had the chance to pull Robin back, she’d splattered the paparazzo’s nose all over his face with a well aimed right hook. From there, she leapt over the back of her seat, and tackled him.
Unfortunately, this was also the exact moment that James Storm nailed Chris Sabin with a beer bottle, in the middle of the ring. Instead of reacting to this, the crowd had focused on the rock star/paparazzo smackdown in the front row. Both teams ceased what they were doing to glare at the redhead, who was so busy trying to jerk out of the full nelson Phil now had her locked in, that she failed to notice this.
“LET ME GO, DAMN IT, I’M GOING TO MURDER HIM!”
“You. Are doing exactly what you did not want to do, which is cause a scene. CALM. THE FUCK. DOWN,” Phil snapped.
By Phil and Tina finally managed to get the redhead back in her seat, security had already made their way over. The paparazzo was forcefully escorted out of the building, while the other three were escorted backstage.
“Dixie Carter sends her deepest apologies for the incident. The photographer has been removed from the building and his camera was confiscated. Ms. Carter requests that you enjoy the VIP area for the remainder of the show, in hopes of making up for it.”
“Thank you, tell her we intend to do just that, and we apologize for causing a scene,” Tina replied, smiling kindly at the guard. The smile stayed in place until he was out of sight and out of earshot.
“Sit. Now.”
Robin glowered at her manager, but followed the command, pouting childishly as she did so.
“Drink this and try to calm down, would you? I told you this was gonna happen, we should have been back here the entire time,” Tina continued, taking a seat next to her client, and placing a can of Pepsi firmly in her hand.
“Teej, since you seem to have this under control, I’m gonna go find Shan and congratulate her again,” Phil stated, a wide smirk now plastered on his face.
Robin eyed Tina warily, and waited until Phil was halfway down the hall, before shouting after him.
“DON’T FORGET TO USE PROTECTION!”
Despite her best efforts to look stern, the brunette couldn’t keep a giggle from escaping.
“I’m sorry for causing a scene, Teej. I really didn’t mean to.”
“I know, it’s okay. I just wish I’d had my camcorder handy, that was one hell of a tackle!”
“Oh, why bother with a camcorder, the TNA crew caught it all. Right when they were supposed to be getting the ending to our match. By the way, thank you SO much for stealing our thunder, firecrotch.”
The girls looked up to see two very angry Detroit natives glaring down at them.
“…We are so fucked.”
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