The Freelancer Ch. 01

Chapter 01: Hayley Williams

I have been a journalist for a few years now and I've recently started freelancing for the likes of NME, Kerrang! and the other UK music mags. The money's not great but most of the interviews take place at gigs and I normally get to stay and watch the bands play so, despite the shitty salary, it's not without its perks.

I had a call a couple of weeks ago from Kerrang!'s editor. She was in a bind and needed someone to interview Paramore when the band was playing in Islington.

"Normally I'd do the cover stories," said Nichola. "But I'm interviewing You Me at Six that night and it's the only slot we could get with them before next week's edition. It's a big responsibility given that you're the first journalist they've spoken to since two of the band members left but you've not let me down before so I'm trusting you with this. The only thing I'd say is don't piss off Hayley -- we don't want bad feedback to get through to the record label and screw up interviews with the other Atlantic artists."

"You don't have to worry," I said. "I like the band and will make sure I strike the right balance between a juicy feature and maintaining good relations. I take it you'll want me to tread very carefully on the whole 'split' issue."

"Very," she said.

We finished chatting about the finer details of the feature before she ended the call and I went off to make myself a cuppa. The gig was a month away so I had plenty of time to research the band, the angle for the piece and read up on all the latest gossip before I headed to London for the gig.

--------------------------------

The day of the gig finally came. I made sure I had no other work a day either side so I could give this all my attention. Nichola had been good to me and the last thing I needed to do was to hand in a half-arsed first draft. I needed to get this right first time. Getting this right could lead to more cover stories or, the Holy Grail, of a full-time job with the magazine.

I got into Kings Cross station and headed over to Islington. Paramore were playing at the 02 Academy, a small little venue close to Angel tube station. It had been a while since I'd been to the venue but, thankfully, little had changed. I'd dressed reasonably smart for the occasion-- a nice pair of cords, a white fitted shirt and a black waist coast -- giving me a reasonably smart but casual look. It might have been a little more Mumford and Sons than Parmore but I felt comfortable and looked presentable and, well, that's half the battle in getting interviews to feel comfortable with you. If you look like you don't give a shit, they're inclined to feel the same way.

Arriving at the Academy, I let security know who I was and, after confirming my credentials, I was let in and ushered into the 'green room'. I found the band there waiting for me. I recognised Hayley, Jeremy and Taylor but I wasn't familiar with the two new touring members. After quick introductions, however, we started chatting and proceeded with the interview. It soon materialised that I had the band to myself, with the record company giving over all the interview time to Kerrang! in order to make sure this was a big exclusive. I think they were a little worried that the band, or at least its mainstream coverage, might not last following the split. It looks as if Nichola's fears were misplaced. Still, I trod carefully and kept the interview light and as much fun as possible. We chatted about bands we like (I dropped the names of a few JRock bands like Nature Living and Ellegarden that seemed to impress). I managed to build up a rapport with all of the band, not just Hayley and managed a few times to get the band members surprised by each other's answers. This is like hitting pay dirt for a music journalist at this level as most bands are asked the same questions over and over again and so they get bored, tetchy and already know what their band mates are going to say to most questions.

"Are you staying for the gig?" Hayley asked.

"I was hoping too. Despite looking like more of a Wurzels fan, I do like your stuff."

"Wurzels?"

"They're British...I think the closest American equivalent would be The Gourds."

"Oh, the guys that did the gin and juice cover. I love that track."

"Me too. I'd quite like to hear them do a Paramore cover but then rock tracks don't quite have the same impact as hip-hop tracks do when converted into bluegrass."

"Ain't that the truth," Hayley smiled. "We've got to get ready for the gig but I've really enjoyed chatting with you. Listen, I know you're probably busy but we were going to grab something to eat afterwards and, if you're free, maybe we could carry on the conversation?"

"Well, hmmm, sure. Shall I meet you back here?"

"Yeah. I'll let security know you're joining us to continue the interview -- just come backstage after the "unplanned" encore," she said, using her fingers to add air quotes. "We'll then work out what we fancy and go from there."

I wondered out from the green room into the Academy. There was still an hour to go before the gig started so I decided to go and grab a coffee in Starbucks and go through my notes. I was still on a bit of a high -- I'd just interviewed Paramore and been invited to join the band for dinner to ask a few more questions. It was rare for bands to let hacks get to know them in such intimate circumstances (the story usually overrides any desire to maintain a relationship with the people in question) so I was really pleased....and more than a little nervous. I really didn't want to blow this. Who knows, if I earned a good rep with them it might get back to the record company and I might get some more interviews out this.

I finished my coffee and headed back to the venue. Having a backstage pass has its advantages and I was able to bypass the queue, making even those at the front of the line jealous, and headed straight for the bar. Given that I was meeting the band afterward I'd have to take it easy -- work with alcohol is still work and I needed to keep reasonably sober if I was going to make notes and ask further interesting questions.

The gig went without a hitch, which shouldn't be surprising -- the band are all professionals and they've been doing it long enough to be able to perform in a venue like this with their eyes closed. They didn't phone it in though and by the end of the main set Hayley was dripping in sweat. The rest of the band weren't exactly 'fresh' either and the guys look seriously knackered. The finished playing 'Misery Business' and then headed off. Within about ten seconds the crowd was already chanting for an encore (the unsurprisingly catchy 'We want more. Paramore' quickly became the chant of choice).

After a few minutes Hayley returned to stage with an acoustic guitar.

"The guys are feeling a little wiped out so I've sent them back to the hotel to get some beauty sleep," smirked Hayley. "I hope you don't mind but you're just going to have me for the encore."

Of course the crowd didn't mind. As much as they were band, Hayley Williams was the centre of Paramore. Hayley sat down, gripped the guitar and started playing. She wasn't half bad, something I hadn't really expected since I hadn't seen her play up until now. It was only then that I realised that, as much as everyone else was enjoying the improvised acoustic encore, it seemed logical to assume that the post-gig dinner/interview was going to be cancelled. I doubted that Hayley would want to speak to a journalist on her own, she'd probably end up grabbing room service or something while the guys in the band recovered. Oh well, I'd got all I needed for a decent feature. It would have been nice to have more but that's just not always possible.

It was then I felt a tap on the shoulder, turning round I came face to chest with a very large, and intimidating, member of security.

"You're the Kerrang! Journalist, right." he said; more of a statement that a question. I nodded. "Ms Williams asked me to let you know she'd still like to continue the interview after the gig. Continue to the Green Room when she's finished."

I nodded again, still a little intimidated by the man's size -- I guess that's why he got the job. I pulled myself together thanked him and let him know that I'm come back stage after watching the encore.

Hayley finished off the gig with a wonderful solo performance of the Only Exception. She thanked the crowd for coming and told them to keep an eye out for new material later in the year. I looked around and saw looks of glee on the faces of the fans around me (mostly young girls but there were a few guys there as well). I took this as my cue and headed to the backstage area, flashing my pass and heading back to the green room.

"What did you think?"

I turned around and saw Hayley coming down the steps from the stage.

"You were great. I mean, you were all great. It's a shame the guys weren't feeling great and needed to head back to the hotel." I was rambling now. Everthing's 'great' -- and I'd only had two beers.

"Yeah but it means you and me can hang out and shoot shit about the Wurzels," she said smiling. "I mean, you seem like a nice guy and, well, after the split last year it's been a while since I've met one of those. I think a few people got the wrong impression of me after the...erm...those..." she trailed off.

"The pictures were tweeted?" I said. "I came across them during my research. I can understand how you must of felt."

"Really?" she sounded sceptical.

"Well, shit, I can't believe I'm telling you this -- trying to keep it professional and all. But, well, I've done some similar shots for some of my freelance work. I hadn't planned on anyone apart from my client using them for anything but, well, when I started a new job a 'friend' of mine thought it would be funny to email them to all of my new colleagues. It was, for most of them, an ice-breaker but it took some serious explaining to my new manager."

"Shit. Who needs enemies with friends like that."

"Indeed."

"So what happened?"

"I bullshitted my way out of it. I managed to make up some shit about the photos being for a charity calendar and that seemed to get me off the hook. Anyway, the event passed without much further instance but I left the company shortly after as it really wasn't me...and now I'm here."

"And now you're here," she said, biting her lip. "So, shall we get something to eat? I don't know this part of London very well -- is there anything good round here?"

"There's a nice little Mexican round the corner. It's mainly just massive burriotos but they're really good."

"I love Mexican."

"Great, let's go."

We found the restaurant, a small little place on London's Upper Street. The name had changed but the food and quick service was pretty much the same. We grabbed a table and started talking. We were getting on really well -- I'd planned to keep this purely professional, after all, it would just be another interview to Hayley, but I couldn't help feeling we were clicking on a personal level. We talked more about musical tastes (I went through a list of great British folk bands that I think she'd like), our workloads and the general problems of having naked photos of yourself out there on the internet.

"I've had a really good evening," she said, stretching out her hand to touch mine across the table. "I'll understand if you say no -- wanting to keep this professional and all - but I was wondering if you'd like to come back to the hotel with me. I've had a really good time and I'd like to say thank you."

I took her hand and smiled at her. Whilst I wanted to keep thinks professional so as not to fuck up things for Kerrang!, Nichola had given me strict instructions not to upset Ms Williams...and, besides, Hayley Williams was incredibly hot. I tried my best not to come over all Hugh Grant.

"I'd love to but only if you're sure."

"I'm very sure," she said, now smiling.

We stepped outside on to Upper Street and hailed a cab. It wasn't far back to her hotel but I was still nervous about sharing a cab with Hayley -- I could still blow it. Hayley clearly could tell I was nervous.

"Don't worry. I'm not going to change my mind, not if I get to feel this inside me," she said, sliding a hand up my leg and grabbing my crotch. Crikey, she'd suddenly become a lot more confident...I must take more women out for Mexican.

I looked into her eyes and put my hands up to her face, drawing her closer and finally bringing her lips to mine.

She whispered "Kiss me."

I placed my lips to hers, softly, caressing her lips with my own. I felt her mouth open and I slowly slid my tongue into hers. Hayley moaned and began to massage my tongue with her own.

After making out in the back of the cab I felt the vehicle stop and the cabbie cough, indicating we had arrived at the hotel.

"Thanks," I said, handing him £20. "Keep the change."

"Cheers mate."

Hayley and I walked into the hotel and caught the lift up to her floor. I tried to play it cool but walking round with a raging hard on made that quite difficult. We reached Hayley's room and she let us in.

As we entered, she turned and jumped me, wrapping her thin frame around me and forcing her tongue back into my mouth.

"God I need this," she said, grinding herself against my crotch.

I returned the kiss, mashing my mouth against hers -- both of us trying to satisfy a sexual hunger through our mouths. My hands began to roam her body, moving from her lower back to her tight, firm ass. She moaned into my mouth.

"Let's get naked."

I put her down and she moved her hand to my waistcoat, unbuttoning it as fast as she could. I flung it off and she started to pull my shirt from my trousers. Keen to get it off quickly, Hayley began lifting it over my head but, being a lot shorter than me she could only get it half way. With my shirt stuck half way over my head, I decided to take it to the couch, that way Hayley could finish what she'd started. I sat down and Hayley pulled the shirt the remaining off the way. She stared at my naked chest and licked her lips. I sat back and invited her to straddle me, which she did, putting her left thigh on the couch first before swinging her right thigh over my lap. We returned to kissing as Hayley once again began grinding her denim-covered pussy on to my still cords-encased cock.

Hayley slowly dragged her nails down my chest, raking them past along my stomach until she finally reached my belt. She started to undo it and then slid her hand inside my trousers, finally gripping my cock tightly with her hand.

She began to slowly jerk me off, looking me in the eyes as she slid her hand up and down my cock. I couldn't take it much longer, I grabbed her thighs and flipped her over onto her back. I pulled her jeans off, taking some cute little pink panties down along with them and then quickly pulled down my own trousers and boxers, my rock hard cock springing free. I knelt down in front of Hayley, grabbed my cock and slowly began to push inside her.

"God that feels so good," she moaned as my penis pushed her pussy lips apart and slid up inside her. I only entered half way, slowly lubing myself up over several strokes before finally pushing all of myself inside her and feeling my balls slap against her tight ass.

"Shit," she moaned upon feeling my whole length. "Fuck that feels good."

Slowly at first, I began to pick up pace. I hoped she was as close to coming as I was as there was no way I could last much longer. I didn't have to wait long, I felt Hayley's already tight pussy grip down on my cock, she screamed out her orgasm and I let go -- squirting thick jets of cum inside her.

"Fuck me," I said. "Wow, that was amazing."

I looked down at the hot redhead, her hair sticking to her forehead --our fast fuck giving her the same look as if she'd just been bouncing around the stage for an hour. I leant down and kissed her, sliding my tongue into her mouth. She accepted it gladly and flicked her own tongue across mine. We both moaned into each other's mouths.

"Stay the night," she said.

Well, I'd already missed the last train home, so what the fuck. I kissed her back and said okay. Writing up the interview would have to wait until tomorrow....I'm glad I cleared my schedule now.

To be continued...