Charley watched the drama of Carry freaking out over the sound system with a disapproving face but nothing else. She just watched it unfold and ticked it down mentally in her head as another reason to have a serious discussion with the girls. Moments and fits like these made the image she was trying to sell to others, the All American girl band to be exact, a hard sell.<br/><br/>And with all the pressure she was getting from the record company and critics, she didn't need the extra load. They were already questioning her management skills since her last band, the The Haunted Eyes, dissolved during tour. It certainly wasn't her fault, that's all she could say. No matter what the rumors said...<br/><br/>"I need to get a freaking drink after this," she fumed as she closed her eyes and rubbed her temples to calm the impending headache. The stress lately was all but killing her and the late nights she was doing, even fucking one nighters at a time, to promote, publicize and get attention for the band was insane now thanks to this tour. "Honestly, just... fuck."<br/><br/>Charley opened her eyes and finally, regaining some of her missing common sense, looked to where the boxes were at last and saw what Adrian, Lou and Em were looking and talking to/at: A young girl, wearing some sort of schoolgirl uniform.<em>Goddamn it.</em><br/><br/>"<em>What's</em>going on here girls," she asked, walking over to them with a new scowl on her face. She was going going to gain lines soon enough and a permanent scowl if she didn't relax. She looked directly at Tiffany, seeing a PR disaster in the making if the girl came out and told the press what the other girls were saying to her. The manager placed her hands on her hips and said, "I<em>hope</em>you're older than 17, miss. May I ask how you got in here?"