Time And Time Again

6

Chuck felt defeated as he flipped through the radio stations, trying desperately to find a track from his new album. Nothing. Not one song. Just when he was about to give up, 'GEMINI' started playing...only for the station to cut out, fading in and out between his song and 'Bitch, Bitch, Bitch.' Eventually it'd settled on the second song, and he sighed in disappointment.
Of course the song was by Stepchild.
His ex girlfriend would've loved Stepchild. She was obsessed with that kind of weird vintage stuff, and that band was well, the epitome of weird vintage stuff, as Chuck had learned through minimal research.
They were good— He wouldn't say Grammy worthy, however.  Maybe they would've been in the 70s. They were a glam rock revival group, reminiscent of the ones in the 70s. He didn't think they'd win, but who knew?
They'd find out later tonight, and if Chuck got his way, he'd be walking him with a Grammy. He would, be, he was confident. And God, he couldn't wait to deliver that speech and finally get his name out there again.
At the moment, he was on his way to pick up a tux he'd just had dry cleaned. He admired the scenery of LA as he drove. It was going to be such a good day.
When he got to the dry cleaner, he entered the building to pick up his favorite suit— Dark blue, crisp, and custom tailored, with his initials embroidered on the sleeve. It was an expensive purchase, but it fit him so perfectly.
After he'd taken care of the suit, he made his way back to his estate to prepare himself for the ceremony tonight.
Chuck turned on the shower, climbed in, and allowed the warm water to completely coat his body. He liked to shower daily; A surprisingly clean man. He lathered himself in ocean scented soap and scrubbed his shampoo into his mess of black hair. He then rinsed, and stepped out.
Chuck adored himself in the mirror for a moment, a grin on his face.
He felt so ready for this.
In the meantime, Frankie was also washing herself off in the shower, after touching up the brown roots of her hair. Red water dripped down her face and left blood like stains at the bottom of the shower as she hummed to herself. The water was hot; it felt so good beating against her perpetually icy skin. It ran down her back and soothed her aching muscles, and rinsed away the smell of sweat and hairspray from over the weekend.
When she felt that she was no longer covered in filth and grime, she stepped out of the shower, flipped her hair into a thick white towel, and wrapped it up. She then pulled her bathrobe over her thin frame and tied it tight around her waist.
When she left the master bathroom, she found Jean standing there in a short, simple black dress. Heat  rose in her chest.
"You look beautiful, Jeannie"
"Thank you!— Do you have your outfit picked out for tonight, Frankers?"
"I've got something planned" replied the redhead with a grin.
Jean thought about it to herself— Even the more modest singers tend to go overboard with their outfits for the Grammys. She was both excited and mildly terrified to see what kind of rainbow glitter covered, bedazzled contraption she'd show up in tonight. She couldn't wait.