Every woman wants me--except the one I sing for.
Seattle shakes with anticipation: they call it the concert of the year. They say girls are getting pregnant just thinking about Crack Bikini being in town.
But when you love a girl, you don't leave her with nothing but a ring and a promise. Any man with half a brain should know.
So what did I expect my girl would do when she saw me again?
Well, for starters, she loathes our music. Particularly the song I wrote about her.
When I sing it, the stadium is in an uproar. Thousands of fans scream my name like I'm a god--but yeah, not her. Crystal clear: the girl's not happy to see me.
Black hair, black boots, a bad attitude, that's her – Pandora Stone is a freaking man-eater and she's out for my blood.
Let her come at me. Because I'm out for her heart and, this time, there's no way she can stop me.