Security

Author: Jane Shadow
Title: "Security" Chapter One
Disclaimer: Shakira belongs to herself, I mean no infringement upon the use of her in my fictional story.
Distribution: None without permission, thank you.
Rating: Chapter is PG-13 for strong adult language, story in full is NC-17
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"How the hell did I get here?" I yell as loud as I can to Chris, who is standing right next to me. The smile that has been on my face all evening stays spread there, almost to the point of where my muscles ache.
He shrugs and laughs, probably too tired to scream over the noise of the crowd.
My feet are exhausted from jumping and dancing, my ears are ringing to no end, my eyes are tired from having contacts in them for 48 hours and barely any sleep, and every muscle aches as I follow Chris out into the main hallway. A few other people are around us, leaving thew eaw early, wanting to get away from heavy traffic or just eager to slip outside for a cigarette. We take a left and pass through the ropes and a security guard, flashing him our passes. I would normally at this point be asking myself the same question of how I got here once more, but I know how I got here. A portion of it was luck, but mainly it was just my pure determination.
We round a corridor and the sound of the speakers grows deafeningly louder. I try to ignore it and act casual although I know I just lost 2 years off the life of my eardrums. Chris checks back to make sure I'm still with him as we weave through the roadies and has-beens that somehow managed to squeeze their way backstage as well. I'm not sure why they linger back there, it's not because they love the music, it's because they love to be backstage just to talk to all of the other idiots who love to be backstage about how important they are and how special it is to be backstage.
We go through another corridor and then out to the open setting of the garage behind the arena. Two security guards are weaving through the expensive autos, and when they notice Chris they tense up a little, knowing that there isn't really a good explanation for wandering around a garage that is already hidden, not to mention protected by cement walls, an alarmed gate, and dozens of cameras.
He ignores them and escorts me to the side of a brand new black truck, then turns and hands me the key.
"You can wait here or at the garage entrance, it's up to you. Just make sure that everything goes smoothly, ok?" He says in his thick Brazillian accent. I nod, the smile still present on my face but a little bit weaker. We have discussed the way everything is going to happen for the past three days, gone through every concieveable practice run, analyzed every angle of it all to protect one beautiful girl, and I feel there is nothing to be nervous about, the methodical actions burned into my brain.
I didn't used to go around with fifty thousand dollar vehicles, escorting musicians and singers to their hotels or other desired locations. I justrtedrted out at a low end security job where the same company I worked under while doing rent-a-cop (aka merchant patrol) work happened to supervise arena and event security in the city. I got moved there, then moved up as supervisor, where I became buddies with chris, the owner of tompaompany. So let me summarize it by saying this; I have some connections, Chris has some connections, and it turns out they needed some extra security on this chic. A few threats from her last shows involving different obsessed fans attacking her while in a car... you know, little things like that.
The plan was that we would drive out while the majority of the fans were still expecting an encore, then later on her usual drivers and the usual flashy vehicles (she was predictable with every car small, red, and made in Japan), would make their ways to separate hotels.
I was to meet up with Chris the following morning in the lobby to return the truck to him and then he would pay my cabfare. Of course there were about 200 other minute details but I'll skip them and get to the point. I stood and waited at the truck, wanting to be casual. She and I had already met and talked briefly before the show, so I knew everything was cool, yet I was still so nervoShe She was so fucking hot, and there's just no better way to say it.
The doors to the garage swung open and I checked my watch. Only a few minutes late, probably due to one of her speeches between songs, or maybe she couldn't decide what to change into. I grinned as she walked towards me, her long slender legs wrapped tightly in brown leather that barely gave when she walked, her dinner-plate sized w tan tank top only covering the absolutely necessary and leaving the res her her skin esquisitely exposed, her flowing curls and waves of blonde hair mixed with her natural brown and it fell supremely over her chest and shoulders.
I audibly gulped.
Her intimidating stride was only met by the slight smile she flashed as we made eye contact. Amazing fact that we did, considering my eyes were scoping her body over and over. The best part of it all was that she looked so intimidating, the way that she walked and especially how she moved on stage. But she was a good 7 inches shorter than me. Still, her presence was overpowering.
For a moment I thought we were the only ones in the room, but then I turned to see the other two security guards (from her staff, not mine) staring with their jaws hanging open. You would think they had seen her plenty of times before, but a girl like this doesn't just leave you satisfied from looking. I almost forgot to get into the cab of the truck.