That's the Gospel Truth

Lottie had managed to blag her way past the security at the side entrance, and was busy weaving her way past frantic looking techies, dodging powder puffs, and ducking microphones as they were thrown around above her. And she was also looking for her room-mate. Clio had invited her to her next show, and boy, was she excited. The clothes! The singing! The night off! She was just beginning to worry that she was cutting it all a bit fine when she spotted her friend sitting in front of one of those make-up tables she thought only existed in the movies.

"Clio! Sugar! I’m here! Oh my lord, ain’t this just incredible!"

"Thank you 20!" Clio and the rest of her sisters said in unison.

While to the untrained eye the rapid hustle and bustle of backstage may seem like chaos it was organized chaos to Clio. Clio sat in her purple silk robe, her hair in rollers and her eyes closed a make-up artist worked on achieving a smokey eye on the back-up singer.

Clio heard the voice of Lottie and opened in eye, much to the anger of the mark-up artist. "Oh Lottie!" She exclaimed extending her hand in excitment. After shooing away a few security guards and other busy-bodies that followered Powerline. "I'm so happy you could make it suga! I hope secuirty didn't have too much a fuss." 

Please Lord, let this vile man get the punishment he deserved and let this hell be over quickly Clio prayed silently as tears fell from face.

God answered her cry for help as suddenly the man was flung off of her as a security guard had heard her screams and was currently beating the drunken man into a pulp. Clio sunk into the bottom of the tent, her hands acting as curtains and stopping the view of what brawl was happening now. 

“listen here, you pathetic wretch, I’m going to cuff you, and you struggle or run I’ll be forced to use violence to detain you.” The male voice said to the drunkard.

Clio peaked between her fingers and watched as the security guard nearly hit the other with a club. Next the man crouched down to Clio, his voice changed from cruel to a softened kind of concerned and asked her if Clio was okay.

As the house lights went up it meant the end of yet another stellar performance done by Powerline and His Muses. With the crowd chanting and cheering for an encore Powerline just couldn’t resist getting the crowd what they wanted and more importantly, what they paid so who was Powerline to disagree with that the fans wanted?

With the show going on for nearly a hour more it was well after 1 am when Clio and the rest of the Muses got backstage to the dressing room their shared with each other. After giving their dresses back to the backstage help Clio had changed into yoga pants and grey loose t-shirt, sitting at the vanity she fixed the rest of her hair into a messy bun. Turning off the rest of the lights Clio realized that the staff and her sisters had been long gone.

The carnival grounds had been empty as well and a cool breeze washed over Clio. However, she felt that she was being watched, rubbing her arms to warm them a little Clio’s paced quickened a little more as she also realized that her sleeping car was on the opposite side of the grounds.

That’s when she heard a voice. "Hey hottie…where you heading to?"  

Clio ignored the voice, being the business of entertainment she was use to the cat calls. However the voice continued getting angrier. "Hey sweet cheeks I was talking to you! When I call you, you get your ass to listen! You hear me?" 

As a scream ricocheted through the air, Tramp halted in his steps, his head whipping towards the source of the sound. At first, he perked up, assuming that he was finally going to get some sort of action.

       This —? Wasn’t  e x a c t l y  what he meant;

the sight before him was one that got him thrown into jail last time — arrested for trying to defend a woman being sexually harassed. Still, he wasn’t backing down. Knowing that stealth was his strongest point, and certainly not brute strength, Tramp silently treaded towards the man; his eyes narrowed with calculation. He firmly kicked the back of the man’s knees, knocking his legs out from under him before swiftly handcuffing the man’s wrists. With a kick to the man’s back, Tramp snorted in disdain as the man fell to the grass; face first.  ”Come on, pal. That’s just not the way to appeal to a lady, now, is it?” He narrowed his eyes at the man. Tramp really wasn’t one to get angry. But this genuinely made him sick.