Once Upon A Time Was a Backbeat

A Jem fanfic

By Auburn Red

Summary: We know about Riot's past, but what about Minx and Rapture? The Stingers women reflect on their pasts and some surprising truths while visiting Riot's family.

Disclaimer: The characters of Minx's mother,Minx's mother's pimps and clients,

Rapture's parents, Gaia, Orphen, and the other commune members are mine. None of the other characters belong to me. They belong to Christy Marx and Hasbro. Minx and Rapture's real names were created by Marx, but all background information was created and suggested by me. There is a reference to Stacee Jaxx from the musical Rock of Ages and he belongs to Adam Shankman and Chris D'Airenzio. The title of the fic comes from the song, "Rock & Roll Dreams Come Through" by Jim Steinmen. The chapter titles are from "The Stingers Theme." The events in this fanfic are shortly after "Riot's Hope" and "A Father Should Be…"

Chapter One: Our Little Minx Will Startle You

It is strange how things happen no? When Rio saved my life, I wasn't sure at times whether I really wanted to help others or I really just wanted him. But now with Riot reuniting with his father and really helping Ba Nee find her father, I don't mind being the person that I wanted to be then.

Oh I am no Saint to be sure. I still have this amazing body and men still are putty in my hands like those two neighbor boys when we entered Riot's parents house. I could practically see the drool forming from across the street. I winked and waved at them as they whistled at me. I think I jumpstarted puberty for them.

The very fact that Riot, Rapture, and I are in this nice American house having dinner with his parents when we turned down a celebrity party it says something itself, no? (Of course as Riot pointed out since it is Stacee Jaxx's party and he wouldn't remember whether we were there or not, I suppose it is no big loss).

"Would you like some dessert, Ingrid?" Frau Llewellyn asks.

When we entered, Riot's parents asked that we tell them our real names, Ingrid Kruger and Phoebe Ashe. I suppose it would be odd for them to call us "Rory," "Minx," and "Rapture." I had answered to Minx for so long, that it takes

me a second before I realize that Frau Llellwyn was referring to me.

Behave yourself my Minx….

My you are a minx aren't you, come to me, my little Minxie…

I wince to block out those memories. They are no longer a part of my life, just block them out! I'm not little Ingrid who had to hear that. I am Minx now, remember what it means, I tell myself. I turn to Frau Llewellyn.

"Oh no danke schoen madame," I say feeling surprisingly shy. "I must watch my figure."

"Now you are a lovely girl," she says.

I smile. "Well I know-" I pose for them like the model on the runway.

"-Modesty has never been one of Rory's virtues," Herr Llewellyn interrupts.

"One wouldn't expect that from his friends either." He speaks so seriously that I am not sure if he is teasing until I see the slight wink. I blush even more concerned, not because I think Riot's father is attracted to me but because he is so different from the man I once knew- well I suppose that we are all different.

"Well true, but videos and magazine shots aren't created if I don't watch myself," I say. After all, how long will it be before my looks disappear until I look like she did before she died?

I have been watching what I eat sometimes passing up on food. Riot and Rapture tease me about it and how I sometimes look too long in the mirror searching for any lines or wrinkles wondering how much surgery would cost to get my face fixed. I ignore their teasing and the gnawing hunger on my body. In fact this is the first time I have had a full meal in some time and despite that Frau Llewellyn is a wonderful cook, I could barely keep it down. The curse of having a body like this is knowing that I have to keep it and keep men interested because if it is gone, I have nothing else. That plus I had been watching my weight more and more since I have been thinking about Riot in that way. Doom schatz, he is just a friend nothing more! I think but I push the plate away and I can

not look at Riot's direction any longer until he speaks.

"You will always be beautiful to me," Riot who up until then had been uncharacteristically silent says.

He looks at me in a way that makes me blush and speaks as though it were the end of the conversation. I rise from my chair. "Excuse me, Frau and Herr Llewellyn I must be excused." I leave the room before anyone could say anything.

I only get as far as the porch to catch my breath. Why does Riot make me feel this way now? I could always control myself with men, but ever since I had almost lost out on being a Stinger, ever since Riot sang that song at our concert, the one that he wrote for his father. He has become different in my eyes but no I cannot feel this way about him. I have to control myself around men especially Riot. If nothing else, Mama taught me that.

"The men are silly," Mama would often say to me while she brushed her platinum blond shoulder length hair, changed into her tight black short skirts and stiletto heels, and put rouge and lipstick on. She always called them her "costumes" as though she were nothing more than an actress in a play and not a prostitute looking for clients on a street corner.

"You show them your legs, your body and they will do anything for you, pay for your clothing, your rent, even your education. Then when you have them," she would always say with a flick of her jangled bracelets and a snap of her fingers. "You get rid of them." Then she would kiss my forehead or cheek on her way out. I can still smell the jasmine perfume on her face neck and hair as she kissed me good-night.

I knew that she only became a prostitute because she had to find some way to support herself and me. She wasn't always a bad person, no. I loved her then I grew to hate her until I realived love and hate were the same thing with her. Well I suppose they are the

same for everyone.

She used to tease me, or style my hair, and make me laugh. In fact it is from her that I got my nickname, because when I was younger and would cause trouble, she would always call me her "meine kleine madchen minx." Mama always had a fascination for old American movies and always wanted to be as glamorous as the actresses on the screen. Sometimes we would watch them together and quote the dialogue back and forth as we cut out pictures or studied their hairstyles and makeup trying to look like them.

She even said that I was named for Ingrid Bergman, because Mama watched Casablanca the night before I was born.

In fact it was Mama who got me interested in music. She paid for me to study the piano when I was five years old and I would play some of her favorite music by Nico, Edith Piaf, or Billie Holliday. She had a fondness for those old torch singers and sad songs, sometimes the sadder the better. Her favorite song was "La Vie En Rose." Every time I played and sang it, she would always have tears in her Mama had clients over, I would silence the screams, the whips, and the grunts of satisfaction by playing Mama's records into the night and softly sing along.

But then again I could never say that Mama was ever in complete control when it came to

Der herren. After all it was a silly teenage boy who forced himself on her and got her pregnant, when she was fifteen. Was it not her father, my grandfather,who disowned her and drove Mama from her home outside Dusseldorf to West Berlin without a mark to her name? Was it not Rudi, the first of many pimps, who corrupted and forced Mama to transform her from Micheline Katzenhammer, an innocent fragile country girl, into Mitzi Kruger, a hard and calculating prostitute using every trick that she could to enchant men to support herself and her daughter? And how many times after her nights out did she return with a black eye or shaking hands only to reach for a line of cocaine or a shot of heroin to calm her nerves and put her into a place that I could never follow?

When I finally hit puberty and the clients began to notice me and made advances, instead of stopping them, my mother gave me over to them. She dressed me in braids and kinderwhore dresses, as though she were turning me into a "Bild Lillie" doll for them to play with! How different my nickname was when I would hear a man in his forties say to me, "My you are a little minx aren't you? Come here, my little minxie!" But Mama just let them do whatever they wanted with me as though she could not stop it.

Control over men indeed! She could not even control herself!

"Going AWOL?" a rough American voice asks. I turn to see Herr Llewellyn standing by the door his arms crossed. "I thought for a minute there you were going over the wall." I hesitated trying think of a good excuse. I suppose Herr Llewellyn took my silence as being offended. "I'm sorry it was a joke. Mrs. Llewellyn says that I need to work on my personal skills. I didn't mean-"

I shake my head. I can tell that he is trying to be friendly to us. He and Riot are really trying to mend the rift between them. Maybe I should do my part as well. "Oh no, sir," I answer. "I was trying to get some fresh air."

He nods. I am not sure whether he believes me or not. "My wife and Rory were asking about you."

"Well I am fine, danke," I answer wanting to sound steadier than I felt. "Though I suppose Rory could have asked me himself."

"I was on my way out anyway," he says turning to the left and right as if looking for any witnesses. I hesitate. Normally I would not mind if a man came on to me, but it would not exactly look good in front of Riot or his mother. How could he do this to me with his wife only recovering from her heart surgery? I clench and raise my knee ready to kick him where it hurts. I am relieved when he pulls out a cigarette and lights it. He holds his finger to his lips. "I'm trying to quit, getting finally to one or two a day, but I'm not smoking in front of my wife with her recovering and well I don't want to hear it from her either." He transformed from a tough American military man to a young boy who does not want to be caught causing trouble. I could not resist a laugh and offer a congratulations on managing to control his habit.

"It is difficult, no,"I answer. "I have not smoked in sometime since I became a singer. I always think that it would ruin my voice." My hand is shaking. It has been so long since I have smoked, actually since I have done many things. I feel somewhat lightheaded. "Perhaps one for a celebration." Riot's father looks confused and concerned, but he hands me the pack. I remove a cigarette and accept his lighter.

"You don't seem to be like many of those rock stars that we hear so much about," Herr Llewellyn began.

I shrug. "You mean drug addicts, alcoholics, parties and the like-"I tease.

"Well Rory has always been conscious about his health and appearance," his father says with pride. "That's one thing at least I understood in him. He was never one for overindulging himself." He looks towards me as if to see if it is still true.

I nod. "He's still like that. Many singers are as you hear, but not Riot. He says that he does not want to do anything that would ruin his voice, his looks, or his sexual

desirability." I say. I suppose Herr Lewellyn is a bit embarrassed with my frank talk towards his son. But if he wants to understand Riot better, then he must see him as we do. I continue. "I cannot speak for Rapture, but I have my personal reasons to not take any hard drugs. We drink sometimes at parties and events but not to excess. As I mentioned before I did smoke, but not anymore. At least not until now."I smiled.

"Our secret right," he asks holding up his cigarette.

I nodded. "Between friends."

He looks at me up and down. He hesitates for a long time before he says anything, "Ingrid Kruger?" He asks sounding the name out as if testing it. "You knew my son in school didn't you?"

I nod. "Yes we were friends," I answer. More than that. He was one of the few boys in school who wasn't intimidated by my appearance or sexual abilities that I learned during the night under Mama and my "night work" as she called my time with her clients.

In fact he was impressed when we were partners during a science experiment and I showed him about the inner workings of an electric circuit. I had been fascinated by electronics ever since I could remember and while Mama was entertaining men I would mentally trace the passage of light from a lightbulb onto the electric currents. One of her regular clients was an electrician, and left behind a textbook. I devoured it with delight. Suddenly, my reading changed from Emil and the Detectives and Tintin to everything that I could learn about how to make electronics equipment.

In school, Riot was impressed that I had combined my loves of electronics and music to make rudimentary synthesizers. We shared a love of music and would spend many hours trading records or playing instruments. I knew even then that he would take the rock world by storm and I like to think he felt the same of me. We did not ask about our families then. I think we just enjoyed sharing this fascination and secret between us.

On the porch, Herr Llewellyn hesitates again. "Your mother's name was Minn- uh Mitzi if I remember correctly and she was a who-"he begins but perhaps he sees me wince so he changes the word. "-prostitute. My wife worked with some charities including one in West Germany to help women who were in trouble. She met your mother through them."

I start. "I did not know that." I say.

He looks down ashamed. "There is another reason that I knew your mother. One day I met her on the street and well she propositioned me. I was rather short with her. You may not know that."

"No, I did not,"I lie for I do remember.

"Well it's true," Herr Llewellyn says."I'm very sorry if it ever caused her any discomfort or you in anyway."

"Its alright," I reply. "It was in the past and my mother is dead now."

"Then I am truly sorry," he says contrite. I look closely at him and accept his apology.

No doubt we are different people than we were that day when Riot and I were fifteen.

I remember walking home with Riot, or Rory as he was then known, from our music session. Both of us wore our school uniforms. We were pretending we had been studying when I saw a red faced American man in a military uniform yelling at my mother. "GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU WHORE!" He yelled. "You should be ashamed of yourself! Parading around like that in that fashion!"

A woman who I had guessed was his wife, held her husband by the shoulder. "Darling she can't help it," she objected with a soft voice. "She has a daughter."

"Well then she shouldn't have one," the man yelled. "She'll probably become a whore too!"

That was all that I could take. I ran away from that scene crying my eyes out with Rory close behind me. "Ingrid wait up," he said.

I panicked as my breath caugh in my throat. "I shouldn't let it get to me but its true enough." I said. "That woman is my mother!"

Rory put his arm around my shoulder and held me tight. "I'm sorry," he said. I could tell he was being sincere. "I'm sorry for what he said too. He shouldn't have said that to anybody, but especially not to you."

I laughed bitterly. "What makes me so special, the daughter of a whore? After all, I shouldn't be too upset by that. I'm sure I will see that man later with my mother."

"No you won't," Rory objected. "He's many things, strict, stubborn, annoyingly patriotic, but not a hypocrite."

"How do you know?"I asked.

He hesitated. "He's my father."I was surprised."Why do you think I play music in secret? He doesn't like me to." He was clearly ashamed.

"I play to avoid my mother and her clients," I said. Rory and I leaned closer and without another word, he kissed me. We began to fondle each other and headed behind an alleyway. He kissed my mouth and my hands reach to unbutton his trousers. He smiles as his lips leave mine. "You are a fast mover, you minx," he teased.

I stopped and let go of him. The words came back to haunt me. "My you are a minx aren't you? Come to me my little minxie!" I fell to the ground feeling sick. I remember panic shooting straight through me and wanting to faint. Rory leaned down. "I'm sorry," he said. "If this is your first time, we'll take it slowly."

I shook my head. "This isn't my first time, far from!" I choked out my history with my mother and my "night work," explaining that the real reason that I didn't like playing at home was because I wanted to spend some time away from Mama and her clients and their leering eyes, wandering hands, and devouring mouths.

To his credit, Rory didn't judge me or my mother. He just helped me stand up and said "Its alright if you don't want to. I don't blame you. Love and sex screw things up anyway. We can just stay good friends. I don't have too many of those." He was so kind and honest then that I didn't want to hurt him. I still do not.

I shook my head. "Me neither," I vowed so we parted friends. Even though Rory moved shortly after and I did not see him again for sometime. He was my closest friend, still is. Well him and Rapture anyway.

When I was seventeen, my mother had died, a shell of her once beautiful self her body a punctured skeleton, and her face prematurely wrinkled and toothless. She died as I played "La Vie En Rose," one last time to her in her final hours. I vowed that I would never end up like her; that I would always be strong, confident, and in control of myself over men. I would turn that name, "Minx" into something wild something that would scratch a man in the back even as she was purring contented in his arms.

On my own, I haunted various nightclubs, sleeping around, doing some modeling, and gaining the control over men that eluded Mama her whole life. They were good to sleep with, play with, but never once did I give my heart to them or let them turn me into something that I wasn't. One of those men was Jerry, the lead guitarist for Nirvana (the superior German group not that pale imitation from America that dares to carry that name as well!) He invited me to join when really all he wanted was a gushing lover to "ooh"

and "aah"over his every word and not have a brain in her head. When I could see our relationship going sour and I saw Rory, or Riot as he called himself, jump onstage in his army uniform playing with such fire and conviction and amazing the crowd, well I certainly backed the right horse.

"You have been with my son a long time," Herr Llewellyn begins leading me to the present. He hesitates as though he wishes to say more. "From school to starting your band and even now."

"Ja," I say wondering what his point is. "He is worth following."

"For you," he says. He looks at his cigarette and laughs. "My wife had this notion that you and he you know were a couple. I thought it was silly. If anything it would be him and that Jem. For what she did to put us together, surely-"

I shake my head. I've been down that road before. "No, Jem is just a friend to us," I reply. "She has a regular boyfriend. As for Rory and I, well we are friends nothing more."

"But you do care for him as he does for you," he began. He is so infuriating in how he can see into someone! I see where Riot gets it!

I turn away not wanting him to see me. "I do care a great deal for him. He is a good friend." I leave the rest hanging in the air.

Riot once told me that his father was not the most sensitive of men, but he certainly could feel the emotion in the air. "But?" he prompted.

"Even if I wanted us to be more,it would never work," I say. "We are too much alike. We both go after what we want and when we get it, we don't want it anymore. Love and sex mess things up. We are just good friends, we should remain that way. I don't want to lose him as a bandmate or as a friend."

Herr Llewellyn leaned against the railing. "My wife and I were friends before we began dating. When we realized that we were in love, it just seemed natural. We always figured that if we stopped being lovers then at least we would be grateful for what we had as friends. I like to think that it was because we knew each other so well that it made falling in love easier." He stops as if expecting me to say anything. I could say,Of course, but Frau Llewellyn is not the child of a prostitute and the two of you are not in the public eye as a band where every move is photographed and spied upon. You do not have to spend time and energy working on a façade that you are not sure that your 'friend' knows how much of is the real you and how much is an imitation. Because he clearly can't love the imitation because he sees to much of himself in it, but he can't love the reality because that means he will lose a lover and a friend. And you are not the one who is afraid of losing yourself over him. I can't say all of that so I just say nothing.

I suppose my silence said more than any argument, because Herr Llewellyn continues

"I suppose the only question you need to ask yourself is whether you're in love with my son."

I feel flushed and very lightheaded. Is there a place to sit down? My legs feel weak. I hear Riot's father asking if I am alright at the same time that the door opens and I hear Riot's voice. "Any longer and I was going to have to send for a search party-" I then hear him stop as Herr Llewellyn holds onto my shoulders to steady me. Riot then runs next to his father as they lower me onto the porch to have a seat.

"Rory get some water," Herr Llewellyn commands. Riot leaves and returns a few minutes later, glass in hand.

"Tut mir leid," I apologize. "I don't know what came over me." I gulp down the water.

"Its alright, Minx," Riot says. "You're going to be okay."

"Take a deep breath," Herr Llewellyn says. I breathe slowly as the two men continue to look concerned. I keep my eyes focused on Riot and his father. I feel steadier.

"Do you want to go home?" Riot asks.

"I'm alright," I say continuing to drink the water.

"Are you sure," Herr Llewellyn asks. I am certain that he is thinking of his wife and her condition. I nod.

"I'm alright," I repeat. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

"Good," Riot says. "I would hate to get a new synthesizer player this late. You know you can be replaced." Despite the tone in his voice, I can see the light shining in his eyes and his mouth falling with concern. He is partly teasing, but he is also worried about me. "I told you this crazy fad diet wasn't working. You'd better start eating normally, before this becomes a regular habit. I'd hate to lose-a good synthesizer player."

I look at Herr Llewellyn. He knows it wasn't just my diet that caused me to feel dizzy. I could hear the catch in Riot's voice. "I won't," I promise. Let me never lose what we had and still have.

Soon, Rapture, Riot, and I are ready to leave his parent's home. I shake their hands. Herr Llewellyn says good-bye to me. "Think about the answer to my question," he says.

"I will," I say.

"What question?" Rapture asks.

I smile. "Oh just a private joke between us." Rapture shrugs.

Riot puts his hand on my shoulder. "I just want to see if you're alright."

I want to put his hand off my shoulder, but I like how it feels. "I'm alright now." I say. Maybe someday I will answer Riot's father's question. For now I am just grateful that Riot is here. It is enough. For now anyway.

Author's notes:

Herr and frau means Mr. & Mrs.

As Wayne Newton and Ferris Bueller taught us danke schoen means thank you very much. :D

Doom schatz means silly darling

Meine kleine madchen minx means my little girl minx (Actually minx is krote or hexe, but her name would be lost in the translation). :D

Tut mir leid means I'm sorry

A Bild Lillie doll was a fashion doll that began in Germany in the 1950's and was the predecessor of Barbie