Cassie walks back out onto the stage alongside Damion when Radio Vine is finished, raising her hands up to try to get the crowd cheering louder. She cups her hand round her ear and the cheering gets a little louder. She thn grabs the front of her dress with both hands as if she's going to pull it down at the front and the volume from the audience rises again. Cassie laughs and winks at the crowd, really lapping up the atmosphere. She nudges Damion with her elbow.
Cassie smiles and lifts the microphone up to her face. "Hey GIRRRRRL! I'm fine now everyone. Had a vodka and cheered up a bit." She looks out at a slightly shocked crowd, some people murmuring in disapproval that Cassie would have dared have a drink while pregnant with twins. She sighs and shakes her head. "I was obviously kidding. Cunts" She kicks out at the lectern in front of her and growls again.
"Did we all enjoy Radio Vine?" She nods a little. "I always find something quite ironic in the fact that the actual craziest bastard in music calls her fans sane." She chuckles. "It makes me think of those old horror movies where someone ends up in an assylum and then the doctor turns out to be some sort of mad - inexplicably Eastern European - brain hungry man. Someone was also majorly irresponsible to always give those guys a hand drill. Who the fuck does that?"
She presses her hand to her ear when she realises she has been rambling. "Anyway....yeah, I imagine that is what Radio Vine's dressing room is like. I can just envisage her back there in a tin foil hat, surrounded of hundreds of sketches of the same whatever the hell it is that haunts her dreams." Cassie laughs. She steps to the side a little and shoots a look to the side as her security guard starts to walk towards the front, ready to keep her in check again. She stamps her foot and screams, not into the microphone, and then turns back to the front and picks up her card again.
"ANYWAY! I'm not even presenting this next award. Ummmm...a joke...a joke...I fucking hate Suzie! There. Not even a joke. This award is to be presented by this guy....."
Her sentence tails off and Cassie walks towards the side of the stage, as a very heavy metal track begins to play loudly around the arena. From the side of the stage, Chaos Records owner Scott RH shows up, looking out over the crowd and pumping his fists to the cheers of adoration, and the wall of noise. He runs to the front of the stage, jumping atop a speaker and saluting the musicians and fans in the audience, much to their delight. Scott smiles and leaps down, before heading to the lectern. He clears his throat.
"Alright! FCA!" He smiles and looks out over them all again. "Now, I'm gonna overlook the fact that y'all went temporarily blind over the voting process and didn't vote me as the sexiest motherfucker yet again," he smiles and chuckles. "I'm still here, and I'm still gonna present this award."
A woman in the crowd screams "I love you Scott," and the singer nods, knowingly. "See? She knows." He looks down and winks. "Thanks, Gia, I'll pay you later," and laughter erupts around the arena.
"Alright," Scott shouts. "This next award is....totally not within my remit as an artist, and I can only think they asked me to present it because it would make me uncomfortable and that I might make some inappropriate joke." He smirks and shrugs. "One outta two ain't bad with their predictions I guess."
"This is an award handed out to people whose talent is often genuine, real and exciting, but more often than not is not their own. It is the talent of some hardworking songwriter, and a bitch load of autotune. An industry where the demo tape has been replaced by the common blow job. Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the world of best pop artist; here are your nominees."
Weekend
Katie Coyle
Isabel
Brittany Knox
Nadia Berry
Abie Lena
Tisha Jackson
Jennifer Armstrong
When the nominations have gone from the screen, Scott smiles again. "Now, a little disclaimer. Not all pop artists use blow jobs to get to the top. Arianna Harley very much used full on over the desk sex, unfortunately, and I'm pretty sure Katie Coyle has licked like a million vags to get herself a billion record deals. Anyway, who gives the very best head? Let's find out."
Scott opens the envelope and smiles.
"The runner up, and I'm sure Hayden would tell you that she is indeed very good, is Isabel Merjos!"
He smiles as the applause ripples through the audience.
"I feel quite embarrassed now though. The winner is a girl who has long been a good friend of mine, as well as a business partner, and one of the rare talents in pop music. Ladies and gentlemen, the living legend that is Nadia Berry!"
Scott appluads and waits for Nadia to arrive on the stage. When he hands her the award, he waves to the audience and then winks into the camera before leaving.
