Home
by psychoticmusichead 1/27/2013, 7:18 pm- Chapter 1:
- I couldn’t tell whether or not the moon was out yet. The sky was a husky, bright blue, but I couldn’t see the moon anywhere. Maybe it was hiding behind some clouds or something, I don’t know. It was pretty bright out for a night without a moon.
I carelessly shuffled over the rough terrain of dirt and patches of short grass every now and then. The trees surrounding me morphed into shadow figures of the night. Their branches tailed upward toward the atmosphere, as their leaves whistled in the light wind which was coming from one direction, or maybe several directions. I’m not much of an outdoorsy person in general, so I wouldn’t know anything much about nature, specifically how it all works out. I am a pretty smart person though. I am fresh out of high school; I made it out with good-ass grades and an aspiring attitude about the walk of life ahead of me. The main reason why I don’t know much about nature is because I never went out on family camping trips a whole ton as a kid, like most families here do. I didn’t grow up in a typical “white picket fence” family, which is alright. I grew up in a jacked-up family, which I’ll explain soon. I pushed myself for good grades because I wanted to get something good out of that time of life, unlike my parents who didn’t give a shit about anything like that when they were my age. I am smart though, but not in the outdoorsy category.
The reason why I’m walking through a forest is because I was just coming back from a friend’s house, named Betty Makra. It happens to be that the place I live in is close to hers. We were practicing with our instruments. I play the electric guitar, while she plays the bass guitar. I’m a pretty good guitarist. My guitar is a Gibson Firebird and it’s a super nice electric guitar. I carry it almost everywhere I go. Anyways, the forest was just a short cut so I didn’t have to take the damn roads back. I don’t have a car, so what was the point of walking back on roads if I couldn’t drive? I also didn’t want people stealing my guitar, since it was expensive to get. Besides, the forestry is a pretty sight. Even though I stated I didn’t know a lot about nature, I have the rights to compliment it. I’d take a walk in a forest at night over any other walk. That’s just my preference though.
I don’t have a ‘home’. I grew up in a jacked-up family, like I mentioned earlier. My mom and dad are divorced. My mom left a couple years ago, when I was only twelve years old—I’m seventeen now. She left due to the many fights she and my dad would have between each other. She demanded him to keep me so she didn’t have to deal with me; she didn’t care about me at all. I was never the daughter she wanted. I am a punk-ish kid who loves rock ‘n roll music and also an extreme tomboy, and she wanted a daughter who loved to wear dresses and all that. I’m an only child, since she couldn’t have any more kids, and I could see how I’ve disappointed her. My mom also left because of my dad’s drug habits. He’s done everything possible like ecstasy, crystal, crack, MDMA, heroin, and many more. Also, he’s a partial alcoholic. He didn’t care about me either. All he cared about was his booze and drugs. I lived with him until a month before graduation. Child Services tried to claim me when my dad got into a drug incident. I ran away from home the night I heard the news from my dad. I packed up a backpack full of clothes and some personal belongings and just left. I didn’t want to be secured up in a building or be sent to a foster home. I couldn’t live like that.
The place I live in is a one-level house with a basement, along with many other kids my age who ran away from home. I found it the night I ran away. There’s about nine or ten of them and they’re all pretty cool, for the most part. Some of them have jobs to keep up with the house, so I barely see those ones. I don’t have a job, since I don’t have a car. I have money though. I do things around the house, like clean the kitchen and do everyone’s laundry. I get paid to do that shit and it’s great. The people that work paid me; they don’t like to do anything when they got home from a rough day, so they hand the jobs to me. I loved living in the house. I felt welcomed and important.
I arrived at the front steps of the house, jumping onto the porch, knocking on the door. I usually knock before I walk into places; I find it more polite to do that. I walked in after a couple of seconds of waiting outside, scraping my Converses onto the rug to get rid of the dirt once I stepped in.
“Iris, you’re back!” A girl’s voice called from the living room, which was to my left. I walked out towards the living room, peeking in to see who said that. The living room had only three couches, a lamp, a beat-up wooden coffee table, and a crappy TV set. I didn’t watch much TV thankfully, so I didn’t care about it. Sitting on one of the couches was a girl named Clara. That was her voice I heard coming in from outside.
Clara’s a girl with a lot of ‘fire’. Anyone could say that about her. She has a fiery attitude and is a wild, crazy person. She loves to do things unimaginable and doesn’t care what anyone says to her about what she does. She has smooth, dark brown hair that runs past her shoulders, nice hazel eyes, and a round facial structure. She’s pretty cute. She loves to wear vintage clothing, which makes her even cuter. Every time I see her, I smile. She’s the kind of person who makes everyone smile. She’s very sweet and honest, also has a great sense of humor. She’s the only person I was really friends with in the house.
“I know, I survived,” I strode over to where she was sitting. I sank down into the old, leather couch and kicked off my shoes. I set my guitar case down on the ground. “Did you miss me?”
“Of course, it’s been kind of lonely here,” she smiled at me; her eyes glistened in the reflection of the lamp coming from behind me. “Where did you even go?”
“I thought I told you I was going over to Betty Makra’s house,” I said quietly, staring into the TV. Some crappy celebrity gossip show was on. “Anyways, that’s where I was. We were discussing some business.”
“What kind of business?” She asked. From the corner of my eye, I saw her pull out of a pack of Marlboros from her front pocket of her jeans. She grabbed out a lighter, pulled one cigarette out from the pack, and lit it up.
“Just some rock shit, I guess,” I told her. “You know I play guitar, right? Well, she knows how to play the bass guitar. We were practicing some songs together and we got a pretty good duo-sound. I’m getting on the right path of forming a band, I guess. I just need a percussionist and a lead singer.”
“You’re a good singer, Iry,” she squeaked at me. That was her nickname for me, Iry.
“Yeah, but I can’t sing and play at the same time,” I eyed at her cigarette bobbing in her mouth. “I mean, I could, but I’d like to just sort of do my own thing, you know?”
She nodded. I smirked at her, looking at the cigarette, and quickly plucked it from her lips. Her jaw dropped when I placed the cigarette between my lips. I inhaled deeply, letting the smoke sit in my lungs before I puffed it out. I smoke a lot. I shouldn’t, but it became a habit ever since I ran away from home.
“Hey, that was mine!” She shouted at me. I like to play jokes with her. She’s so funny about jokes being played on her.
“You’ve got a whole damn pack,” I said, gesturing towards her pants. “Get another one out.”
“Why? Don’t you have any?” She folded her arms across her chest.
“I do, but I just misplaced the pack somewhere,” I said. “It’s probably in one of my jean pockets.”
She glared at me, and then her face softened. “I’m not mad at you, don’t worry. Besides, I don’t feel like grabbing another one out. I’ll save it for tomorrow.”
I puffed out a ring of smoke. “That’s more like it.”
Her lips drew into a smile and she scooted closer to me, our shoulders were now touching. She leaned in and kissed me lightly on the cheek. Clara was an affectionate person with anyone. She’s pretty affectionate with me. When I first met her, I got mixed signals from her about her sexuality. I don’t think she has a label. I think she likes whoever she likes.
“Your band will become huge someday,” she whispered, making little circles on my shoulder with her finger. “I know it will. You have that motivation in you.”
I slouched into the couch, inhaling more smoke into my lungs. “Hopefully it will. I just dream of it. I eat, sleep, and breathe rock n’ roll music. I want to make an all-girls band, kind of like The Runaways.”
“Yeah, but they broke up,” Clara looked at me.
“Still, people talk about them,” I told her. “They were becoming big. I feel that a girl band needs to come up on the scene again and to this time make it.”
“In that case, you know I’ll be your number one big supporter,” she said with enthusiasm.
I turned and gave her a thin smile, taking the cigarette out of my mouth. “I know you will be.”
She leaned in and gave me a peck on the lips. I pulled her in for another quick kiss, letting go, and then grabbing my guitar case. I felt like playing the guitar. Clara bit her lip and ogle-eyed me. It seemed to me like she wanted more. I mean, I did too; I was feeling quite horny, but I wanted to play the guitar.
I unlocked my case and pulled out my good ol’ Firebird. She loved it when I played it. I tuned the guitar strings and took out my guitar pick from my pocket. I strummed it slowly, thinking of a song to play. Eventually, I found one. I started playing the song, “I Wanna Be Your Boyfriend” by The Ramones. It was a catchy tune. Good band, too. Clara clapped when she recognized the song. She reached over and stole the cigarette from my mouth.
“Hey little girl,” I sang. “I wanna be your boyfriend.”
Clara moved her arms around, closing her eyes, and humming along to the sound of my voice. I plucked away at my guitar. I felt the music flow into the air. She heaved out some smoke into my face. I started to laugh.
“Do you love me, babe?” I sang loudly. “What do you say?”
“Do you love me, babe?” Clara burst. “What can I say?”
“Because I wanna be your boyfriend!” I yelled out, laughing as loud as I could. Clara laughed along with me. I kept on strumming my guitar, not even playing the song anymore. She took out the cigarette from her mouth and planted a kiss on my lips.
“Hey, I’m going to get some rest,” she said to me. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Why? Are you feeling tired?” I asked, staring at her as she stood up from the couch.
“Sort of,” she said, rubbing her neck. “I need to catch up on some sleep anyways.”
I frowned. “Alright…I won’t keep you up any longer.”
She waved at me and left the room, taking the hallway down to her room. I watched her as she left, slowly strumming my guitar. I stared at the window to my left, right by the lamp. It was darker outside. My eyes landed towards the TV. One of the news shows was on now. The clock on the corner of the screen read 12:46 a.m. It looked like I needed to get to bed too.
I stood up slowly from the couch and dragged my guitar and its case to my room, which was right off of the living room. There are a lot of bedrooms in the house. There are four up here and five in the basement. It was nice. I got one of the smaller ones, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t hanging out in my room all the time; I was always out and about.
There was only an air mattress, a dusty mirror, and a dresser in my room. I have no built-in closet; I stash all of my clothes in my dresser drawers. It was a big, ivory dresser. I liked the size of it. I put my guitar in its case and set it against the wall, and then plopped down onto the air mattress. I snuggled into one of the blankets I have and laid against my pillow, falling asleep within the next couple of seconds.
- Chapter 2:
- The next night came in like a roller coaster. I guess doing nothing all afternoon does that to someone. I was planning on going out to a club for teens called Smashers. I’ve been there only once and I love it there. They play rock n’ roll music and people from different areas come to it. It was a great place. And luckily, Smashers is only a block away from the house. I didn’t need a ride from anyone.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” I asked Clara as I was slipping on a pair of black skinny jeans.
“I’m not feeling it tonight,” she mumbled as she was watching me get ready. I ran my fingers through my shaggy, black hair. I slipped on black cuffs on my wrists and turned towards the mirror to put my makeup on. I ran some eyeliner onto my eyelids and brushed on some mascara. I love putting on eye makeup.
“How do I look?” I asked, gesturing towards my whole outfit. I wore a black leather jacket with a blue T-shirt underneath that was bleached out and wore my black skinny jeans.
“You look hot,” she smiled wide. “You’re so ready to go clubbing tonight.”
I laughed. “Thanks.”
I waved goodbye to Clara and swiftly ran out of my room to grab my Converses to slip on. They were lying on the living room floor. I’m surprised no one has stolen them yet. They were still brand new. I bought them a couple of days ago. The other ones I had ripped because I wore them out too much. It sucks when shoes do that.
I burst open the door and ran out onto the street. Betty was meeting me up at the club tonight. We talked a little bit about it yesterday. We were planning on trying to recruit a percussionist and a lead singer at Smashers. Hopefully, the plan works.
I stuffed my hands into my pockets as I fast-walked down the sidewalks, making little short cuts so I could get to the club faster. I felt my hand hit something in my left pocket. I grasped my fingers around it and pulled it out. It was the missing pack of cigarettes I was talking to Clara about yesterday when she asked about it. I grinned. I don’t have to ask anyone for a damn cigarette now. I pulled one out and put it in my mouth. I flicked open my lighter and lit up the cigarette, puffing smoke out into the night air.
It was a bit chilly outside. I’m glad I wore a jacket. There were clouds in the sky again, but this time the sky looked almost brown because of the street lights reflecting in the atmosphere. I sometimes enjoy this sky at night. It feels like I’m in the cities because when someone goes to the cities at night, this is what the usual night skies are like: dirty brown and rich-feeling.
I reached the club within a couple of minutes. It was a small building, but many neon lights constricted the outer walls, so anyone could see it from a distance. People about my age were hanging out outside of the club’s doors, smoking and drinking alcohol. As I got closer, some of them waved at me. I didn’t recognize any of them, but I acknowledged that they waved to me. I waved back. I threw my cigarette to the ground, stomped on it, and then slid through the club doors.
Smoke lingered in the air when I stepped in. Loud music was blaring; the sound was bouncing off the stony walls. I heard quite a bit from outside. I couldn’t tell what was playing, all I know that it was some rock jam. Shoving some people to move, my eyes searched for Betty. She’s not a hard person to look for because she’s pretty tall and has bright, red hair.
I turned right around the corner and over by where the DJ stand was, Betty was standing with some guys. There were three of them. All wore tough leather jackets and even all of them had their hair slicked with grease. Looked to me as if they came from the 1960’s; that was when the ‘Greaser’ look was popular. I chuckled to myself.
“Hey Iris,” Betty yelled my name when she spot me in the huge crowd of reckless teenagers. She shooed away the boys and they looked confused as hell. She always does that, shoos away everyone just for certain people.
“How go’s it?” I smiled at her when I finally got to her hang-out spot.
“It’s going okay,” Betty’s dull gray eyes stared at me. Her eyes made me depressed whenever I looked into them. They’re unique and all, but I get a twinge of sadness from them.
I clapped my hands together. “So are you ready?”
“Ready for what…?” Her brows pulled in towards each other.
I rolled my eyes. “Dude, our plan!”
“Oh yes, I forgot about the plan.” She’s the type to forget things. She put a finger to her lip, and then looked at me with a wild gaze. “Alright, so I asked one of my friends for some insight and he didn’t give me good advice, so I don’t know about that.”
“What about a drummer?” I asked, shoving my hands into my pant pockets.
Betty clicked her tongue, took my arm, and then led me straight into the crowd, elbows getting struck at my face and backs shoving into me. I tried to get loose, but Betty had a strong grip on my arm. What the hell was she doing? I looked around and we heading towards the front doors of the club. She kicked open the door and soon let go of my sore arm.
“Shit, what the hell was that for? Why are we outside?” I slurred at Betty, rubbing my arm. There were nail marks on my bicep area, blood starting to ooze out from the marks.
“Sorry about your arm,” she told me. “We’re out here because when my friend dropped me off, someone overheard our conversation about recruiting our band members and asked me if she could be our drummer.”
My eyes widened. I got excited when she said it was a girl. “That’s fucking great! Who is it?”
Betty whistled over to my left and girl with beach-sand colored hair turned around. She looked to be about an inch or two shorter than me and had this huge, yet, rough looking smile on her face. I got the aroma that she was the kind of girl who could always put on a good mood, if she wanted to. The clothes she wore described her personality. Red skinny jeans, black zip-up boots, a black tank-top, and a diamond necklace screamed to me that she was the heart-breaker type. She nearly looked like she was floating when she began to walk
“Iris, meet Julie Shoner, our new drummer.” Betty introduced Julie as soon as she reached to where we were standing. I held out my hand and Julie shook my hand. She had a light grip. Her hands were fragile.
“Hello,” her voice piped, but had a hoarse-tone to it. “And you are?”
“Iris Vollard,” I answered. “I play the electric guitar.”
“That’s what Betty told me when she talked about the band a little bit,” she said. “I’m glad I overheard the conversation. This seems like it will be a blast.”
“So did Betty mention to you that our band is going to be an all-girls band?” I asked.
“She did, alright,” she said. “I liked the idea a lot actually. I hoped for something like this to come up."
“I’m glad you say that,” I smiled at her. “You know? I have a feeling that if we pull this thing off, we can make it out there. We just need a singer and then we have it all set.”
“Good luck trying to find one,” Julie took out a cigarette from her pocket. “I’m pretty sure with the recruiting skills you have, you’ll never be able to find somebody who is singer-worthy."
I felt a shiver roll up my spine. Man, didn’t that piss me off. Pissed me off a lot, actually.
Julie turned to Betty and whispered something quiet to her. They both then waved to me and started to walk away. I figured they were going to hang out with the group Julie was with. “Alright, thanks.” I called out to Julie. I played it cool.
As soon as I turned around, I ran right into someone’s front, which felt like his or her’s chest.
“Whoa, I’m so sorry—” When I looked up, it was a man about in his mid-twenties. His eyes were wildly staring down at me. They were the color of dark brown. His hair reminded me of a David Bowie hairstyle and seemed to have a lot of hairspray in it. He was wearing a maroon jumpsuit-looking outfit, with glossy black shoes to top off the outfit. I began to recognize the guy. I almost stopped breathing.
Holy shit, it was Lowe Greisen. He’s a record producer for the record label SST Records and he’s kind of a talent scout. He picks up all of these cool underground bands. Some of them make it, some don’t. Either way, I can’t believe he’s standing here, right in front of me. It’d be so rad to work with him. I blinked several times just to see if I was dreaming or not.
“You’re Lowe Greisen,” I backed away from him so he could have his space. I kept my cool though. I didn’t want to look like a pansy to him.
“Yes I am,” his grainy voice answered back. “Now what is this amazing crap I picked up from over here?”
“I-I came up with the idea of starting an all-girls rock band, kind of like the Runaways, but my motive is to make it bigger than them. I feel like another girl band needs to be in the rock industry.”
“Are you making up this dog shit?” It sounded like he was angry saying that.
My eyes grew wide. I quickly shook my head. “No, no, this is all real.”
For a moment, he had a stiff look on his face. Shit, he was probably thinking the idea sounded stupid as hell. I almost wanted to dig myself a hole. A second later, he laughed. “Well, I must be one hell of a guy to want to help you guys out.” He paused. “What’s your name?”
“Iris Vollard,” I told him calmly. “I play the electric guitar.”
“Are you any good at it?” He pulled some strands of hair behind his ears, and then shoved his hands in his pant pockets.
“Yeah, I mean, I learned how to play when I was a kid.”
“Interesting…” he nodded his head. “So all you need is a singer for your band?”
I nodded. I did not believe what my ears were translating from this guy. This must be a dream. “Yeah, it’d be nice. Apparently it’s hard to find one, according to smart-asses.” I sneered over at Julie, who was laughing with Betty and her friends.
“Don’t get caught up with that nonsense,” he told me. “People don’t even know what the important elements of finding a singer are. Like they think all we care about is the looks. It is about the looks in some ways, but in other ways, it’s about the things that make them as a person…” He stopped, just to see if I was listening or not.
I cleared my throat and folded my arms. “Yeah, I’m listening.”
“People give a fuck about who the singer is. Many bands don’t like hearing this, but the front person makes the covers and all that. They don’t give a shit about the rest of the band. Only the real, hard-core fans do, but you get what I mean. So what I’m saying is that we need to find someone who is out-of-this-world and someone who will get people talking. What I just got in mind for you guys is a hot, blonde-shell beauty that is fierce and not only aggressive, but has a sweet, down-to-earth side. The public likes that and that is important in a person. Usually, people will buy the band’s stuff if the singer is, overall, a nice person. If the girl can’t sing, then I can train her to sing. We have to find someone like that!”
He could’ve gone on about this, but I bet he knew he didn’t have the whole night to talk about it with me. “Alright, so I was thinking we could find her tonight or something. I don’t wanna wait too long.” I said to him when he was done explaining.
“Great, let’s go find her!” He gestured me to follow him. I began walking in his footsteps, soon heading back into the loud, hot atmosphere. It seemed like more people got here, or maybe I was just being delusional. There are always new faces here, and more faces tend to show up throughout the night. I couldn’t complain though because I liked it.
I lost my train of thought when Lowe jerked on my arm. I winced and gave him a scowling look. My arm looked like it went through a meat grinder. His grip was hard too, but he didn’t make me bleed unlike Betty did. He gritted his teeth and then pointed over towards the bar area. The lights were flickering over in that area and there sat a petite, small girl who had luscious blonde hair that immediately sparked my interests. Her eyes were the color of the ocean waters. She had the face of a fragile doll: small, well-framed, and round. She wore red lipstick, which brought out her kissable, full lips. She was wearing a dark-denim jacket with a lacey black tank-top underneath. Covering her thighs was a velvet skirt with high-leather black boots squeezing her legs down to her feet. She was drinking a Mountain Dew from the bottle. She looked around my age. Man, was she hot. I looked over at Lowe and I knew he was thinking the same thing I was.
She’s the one.
He gave me a push towards her. I damn near fell on my face. My face burned up, but I had no choice of turning back because she caught me going towards her. Shit, didn’t I just look like a fool? I gulped and awkwardly paced towards her. Her eyes followed my legs that were moving at an incredibly slow pace. I felt my heart beating a million miles per hour.
“Hey there,” My voice croaked. I get nervous when trying to talk to pretty girls.
“Hey,” her eyes landed on mine. She sounded so calm and collected. Her voice was like silk.
“I-uh was wondering if you sing.” I stuttered. “I mean, can you sing?”
“She’s asking if you wanna be in a band or not,” Lowe came up from behind me. “My name is Lowe Greisen; record producer for SST Records. Thought you’d be the perfect person for our band. What’s your name?”
“Charlotte Cade,” her voice echoed. “Yeah, I’d be interested. What kind of music do you guys play?”
“Rock music,” Lowe answered before I could even speak. “So can you sing?”
“Yeah, I can sing,” she replied. “I won a school talent show for singing, but I’m graduated now from senior high.”
Lowe nodded; he looked impressed. I was impressed too. Hell, winning a school talent show? That’s pretty cool. And when I mentioned earlier she looked around my age, she probably is my age. I contained my happiness inside me. I needed to look mature and tough around this nice girl.
He kneeled down towards me; his mouth was near my ear. “Tell her to meet us at the trailer park at 3 o’clock tomorrow for band practice. I’ll go tell the others.” He patted my shoulder and then took off.
“So are you still interested, despite if it’s rock music?” I asked her, watching her movements. She seemed like she was a little tense, but more relaxed than anything.
“I don’t listen to rock much, but I’m interested still.” She ran her fingers through her Farrah Faucet-esque hair. “I love to sing.”
I studied her a little bit more. She didn’t seem like much of the talker. Maybe it’s because she’s shy or something. Once I get to know her, she’ll probably open up. “For tomorrow, meet us at the trailer park at three. It’s band practice.”
The corner of her lip drew into a little grin. “Thanks.” Before I began to walk out of the bar area, she called out to me, “Hey! What’s your name?”
I glanced over my shoulder and gave her a little grin. “Iris. Iris Vollard.”
She gave me a full smile; her cheeks even grew a little pink. She took her Mountain Dew bottle and lifted it up towards her mouth. “At three o’clock, right?”
I gave her two thumbs up and then started to walk away from her. She waved goodbye to me. I headed out back towards the front doors of the club. This was a pretty successful night…a very successful night.
- Chapter 3:
- My eyes burned when I stepped out into the afternoon sunlight. I slipped on my Aviator shades and stepped onto the mushy earth in front of the trailer doors. It was almost three and I was waiting for Charlotte to show up. Everyone else was here thirty minutes earlier. Julie and Betty decided to mess around for a little bit before Charlotte would arrive. I didn’t even know what they were doing. Lowe, I bet, was probably reading some magazine or something to keep himself occupied.
I scoured my surroundings, mainly looking for Charlotte. I folded my arms across my chest, taking some deep breaths. I hope she knows where this place is. The last thing I need is her not showing up at all. I should’ve given her directions. God, I needed a cigarette, but I forgot my pack at the house. Maybe the others had some, but I didn’t want to look like a lousy fool asking for one.
In the distance, I could see Charlotte walking on one of the trails here in the trailer park. I sighed in relief. I was on the verge to run and search for her. I forgot to mention to her the trailer was deep in the woods. That looks bad on my part. Again, I made myself look like a fool in front of her.
“Hey,” I greeted her when she finally was a couple of feet away from me. “Did you find the place alright?”
“I got a little lost, but I found it,” she softly said. “So this is your guys’ trailer?”
We both started to walk towards the filthy, rusty trailer. “Yep it is,” I told her. The trailer was bigger than a bedroom, but cramped as hell. We somehow managed to fit the drum set in there perfectly without any problems. It was Lowe’s trailer for us to use whenever we needed to practice or to, as he said, “just to get away from all the drama in life”. What a fruit.
I opened the door for Charlotte. She stepped in and I followed in right after her. Lowe was sitting over on the orange, torn-up couch opposite of where our band set was. He flopped down his magazine and smiled a drunk-looking smile.
“There she is!” He stood up and embraced Charlotte tightly. I swore he could’ve almost devoured her. She looked disturbed when he let go of her. “Are you ready to kill it today?”
“I guess,” she mumbled, her eyes darting at the microphone stand that stood less than several inches from her. He gestured her to go towards the microphone stand and she did. She grasped it with her right hand, angling it so she was able to sing into it. Charlotte glanced over at me, which I was setting up my guitar. A confused look settled on her face. I could tell she was a bit nervous.
“So, what are you going to sing for us today?” He almost sounded like a little kid asking that.
“‘Our Lips are Sealed’ by the Go-Gos,” she answered in a quiet tone.
His face dropped. Everyone grew silent. It was like she said something horrific or something. I don’t mind the Go-Gos; it’s just that they aren’t under our category.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Julie snapped from behind. “The Go-Gos aren’t even rock! Don’t you know anything?”
“Hey, just cool it, Julie,” I retorted back at her. She just rolled her eyes at me. I didn’t care though. I glanced over at Charlotte, whose face looked as white as a ghost. “Do you know any other songs?”
“Not really…I told you I didn’t listen to much rock music. Maybe I’m not cut for this band.”
“Don’t say that!” Lowe jumped up from the couch. “You know what? We’ll write a song instead. Iris, give me a sound or something rhythmical so I can get an idea.”
I strummed a couple of chords for him, trying to come up with a creative sound. He stopped me at one part I played, which was sort of catchy. “Stop there, we can make something off of that.”
“I’m not so good at songwriting,” Charlotte mumbled.
“Lowe, I can help,” I said. I paused, giving myself a couple of seconds to think. I’m a decent song writer, so I should be fine. “Like what are you looking for?”
“We need something spectacular, something enraging in feistiness and power. This is no time for writing songs about puppies and flowers. You guys gotta get out there, you know? Be in the crowds’ faces all the damn time like a bunch of dirty mutts.”
A spark ignited in my brain. The word “leather” flashed while Lowe was talking. I don’t even know how I even got that out of writing songs about puppies and flowers. “How about something like this, Lowe?”
I strummed a couple of chords first before trying to sing. “You’ve gotta earn your leather. Now c’mon, show me what you got. Prove to me that you are better. Let’s go, show me what you know.” I stopped and stared at Lowe and Charlotte.
“Brilliant!” Lowe clapped his hands. “It’s catchy and it makes a really good chorus. Let’s get little Charlotte here to sing it for us.”
Charlotte gulped, her eyes widening at the microphone. I started to play the chorus-chords. I hoped she could pull this off.
“You’ve gotta earn your leather. Now c’mon, show me what you—”
“You gotta do some movements!” Lowe nearly screamed at her. “You’re not a fucking sack of potatoes! Now c’mon, try again!”
Charlotte sighed, taking a step towards the microphone again. Lowe relaxed a bit. She first began with a hand movement that I thought was weird, but pretty sexy for someone like her to do. Probably she was the only girl who could make the hand movements she was doing sexy. I played the same chords again and then she started to sing. “You’ve gotta earn your leather. Now c’mon, show me what you got. Prove to me you are better. Let’s go, show me what you know.”
She stopped doing her ‘moves’ and Lowe seemed like he was in awe. I was in awe too. She had a fantastic voice. She sounded like an angel that came from hell, if there was any better way to explain it. It looked to me that the others loved it too. No need for Lowe to train her how to sing; she’s got the voice.
“Perfect! Fucking perfect! You nailed it!” He was all smiles. “Now we just have to come up with the rest of the song and add in the rest of the instruments.”
--
Just an hour or so later, we finished touching up on the song, which we finalized it as “Earn Your Leather”. Lowe fell in love with the song when we gave the whole thing a practice run. Betty sounded wicked on the bass, while Julie drummed away like a professional. Charlotte killed it. She was the showstopper in all of this. I couldn’t help but stare at her when she was singing. She was a goddess on the microphone stand.
“You guys did a fucking damn good job!” Lowe chimed, clapping wildly. “If that was the real deal at a concert, you would’ve had everybody who was watching dead on his face. We need that power again!”
Charlotte shyly glimpsed at him. “I’ve never had that experience before, of like letting the wild out of me. It felt amazing.”
“Just wait till you and the rest of you girls get on the stage,” Lowe spread out his hands like there was glitter or something in the air. “The wild will grow wilder and you’ll let out this monster, this beast who’s fucking crazy! It’ll feel like you’re on a damn rollercoaster! That feeling is probably the best feeling a human can ever experience, being on stage and stuff.”
“I can’t wait to get crackin’ at that!” Julie banged her drumsticks together.
“As a matter of fact,” Lowe began, “I can get you guys a gig real soon. I think you’re all ready for one. With just a little more practice, I can schedule a gig and get you guys started. How does that sound?”
“It sounds good to me,” Betty replied. “What about you guys?”
“Sure, why not?” Julie smiled. “It’s a great idea.”
“I like the sound of that,” I said. I really did. It sounded like a fantastic idea. Getting on the road early has to be a plus.
“Lead singer, your opinion on this?” Lowe stood up, standing next to Charlotte. She looked like she was thinking.
“I think it’s a good idea,” she quietly told him.
“Great! I love your guys’ opinions!” He clapped his hands together and did a little jump. He must’ve been real happy. “So I’ll schedule a gig sometime soon. I haven’t decided where it’ll be, but any open space for a gig, I’ll snatch it.”
“So I’m assuming we’ll be working on some songs when we have another practice?” Betty asked.
“Yeah,” he answered. “I can also have you guys perform some covers, since that’s how starting out as a band works. We’ll pick some good songs; songs that people will like.”
“Not bad songs from, for an example, the Go-Go’s!” Julie snorted, pointing her finger at Charlotte.
I turned around and glared at Julie. What the hell was her problem? I snarled, “Dude, chill out! You heard her earlier. She doesn’t listen to much rock music.”
“Jeez, don’t get so defensive,” she snapped back at me. “Let her answer, for God’s sake. You’re not her guard dog!”
“Hey-hey-hey, girls, settle down,” Lowe interrupted our arguing. “This is not something to be fighting about. Julie, you heard Charlotte earlier. Settle down.”
“Sorry,” Julie spit out.
“Sorry,” I mimicked her. I was not becoming a huge fan of Julie. The way that she insulted Charlotte was just obnoxious. I bet Charlotte doesn’t even like her for calling her out on that stupid thing.
“I think we’re done with band practice for today,” Lowe bit his lip, going towards the door of the trailer. “You bitches did a damn good job. Now, I’ve got places to run to, so I’ll see you guys two days from now for another band practice.”
“Alright, see you then,” Betty answered. “Here, right?”
“Yep, at three o’clock,” Lowe said, and then he opened the door and stepped out of the trailer.
“I’ve gotta run too,” Julie got up from the drum set. “I’ve got a date to go to.”
“With the guy you were talking to last night?” Betty gawked. “If it was that guy, damn, he was hot!”
“It is that guy,” Julie shyly smiled. “I think he really likes me. He’s taking me out to that tiny diner on the corner of town and then to a movie.”
“Have fun, then,” Betty smiled. Julie moved out of the band area and walked out of the trailer. Thank god she left. Charlotte let out a breath.
“I’ve got to get home, you know how my parents are Iris,” Betty went towards the door. “They freaked out when I told them I was going to a trailer park this afternoon.”
I laughed. Betty’s parents are the strictest parents I’ve ever met. They freak out about the littlest things. “Good luck with them.”
She jumped out of the trailer’s doorway, leaving me and Charlotte alone. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to go back to the house yet. I took a look at Charlotte and thought for a minute. Maybe she could hang out with me or something.
“I don’t wanna go home yet,” I mumbled out loud.
“Me neither,” she answered back.
“Do you, um, wanna hang out or something?” I stuttered, turning towards her. That sounded weird coming out of my mouth.
She scratched the back of her head, giving herself a minute to think. “Sure. That sounds like fun.” She smirked at me. I’m glad she didn’t think it was a stupid idea.
“You deserve some fun after a hard day of practice,” I told her, putting my guitar to the side. “So where do you wanna go?”
“Anywhere is fine,” she suggested. “I honestly don’t care where we go.”
I smiled. “Great. I’ve got a place where we can go to.” I moved around the trailer to get to the door and leaped out of the doorway. Charlotte started to chuckle after I leaped out, and then began to follow in my footsteps. “You’ll thank me later.”
- Chapter 4:
- Ditto’s Bar was just on the other side of town. It’s a cheap place, but they sell some of the best alcohol I’ve ever had. The place is like any typical bar. It’s got its drunkards who crawl all over the place, its bastards who punch the shit out of each other for no reason, and its sleepers who pass out anywhere on anything from drinking too much booze. One thing I recommend to anyone who decides to come here is to avoid the bathrooms as much as possible. I call it the Sex Lounge because so many lousy fools give each other the time in there to actually do it. It’s sort of pathetic. No one can have a decent piss without hearing the sounds of moaning and grunting.
I opened the door to the bar and let Charlotte go ahead of me. She smiled and thanked me. After she stepped in, I came in right after her. The place wasn’t so busy, though, it gets busier later on in the evening. The bar area was just on our left, so we shuffled over there. The bartender eyed us and began to set out some little drink napkins and tiny glass bowls filled with peanuts.
“What do you want?” I asked Charlotte when we settled down onto the bar stools.
“Umm…what do you recommend?” she asked. “To be honest, I really don’t drink, so I wouldn’t know what to get.”
“Oh you don’t?” I got a little curious.
“Yeah, it’s just something that never looked interesting to me,” she responded. “I usually have soda pop.”
I nodded. I could understand that. My eyes scoured and found the bartender, who was over on the opposite side of us. I waved him over and he caught my attention. “What do you want?” He gruffly asked.
“Can you get this lovely lady here a bottle of Mountain Dew?” I asked. “Actually…two bottles of Mountain Dew, one for me.”
“Sure,” he replied with boredom in his voice. He went over to a bucket over on the counter opposite of us. The bucket was labeled “Bottled Soda”. He reached into the bucket and seemed to have grabbed the two bottles. Turning around, he gave us the cold bottles. I pulled out some cash out of my pocket and set it down onto the bar counter.
“No, you don’t have to—”
“It’s on me,” I told Charlotte. “Besides, I haven’t had a Mountain Dew in a long time.”
“How did you know it was my favorite pop?” She held the bottle up to her lips and sipped out of it.
“I saw you drinking it when Lowe and I recruited you,” I said to her, grabbing some peanuts from the little bowl and throwing them into my mouth. I was surprised it was her favorite pop. Good thing that I notice stuff like that. “I didn’t know it was your favorite; I just figured you liked it.”
“Now you know,” she let out a little laugh.
I tapped my fingers on the bottle and couldn’t help but smile at her little laugh. It was really adorable. “So what did you think of practice today?”
“I thought it was pretty good,” she answered, swirling her bottle around. “I didn’t enjoy Julie being an ass. Is she always like that?”
I shrugged. I wish I could answer that question. “I have no idea. I just met her yesterday. I’ll probably have to ask Betty about her, since she now hangs out with Julie.”
“Hopefully, she’ll get along with me one way or another,” she stated. “Thank you for standing up for me.”
“Ah, no problem,” I said. “You didn’t deserve that bullshit from her. Someone had to stop her from going on a rampage about every single thing you do.”
I always stand up for people when it comes to shit like that. Back in the school days, I’d always scare the hell out of the bullies who were always trying to pick on some kid in my school. Like one time, I was in the hallway and there was this kid who was carrying a lot of textbooks, and these jocks, like these three huge-wrestler looking guys, pushed him from behind and his textbooks flew all over the place. They started beating the shit out of him and calling him a faggot. I wasn’t going to let them get away with that. I called them freaks and picked up a fight with them. I ended up getting suspended, but ever since that day, the jocks wouldn’t mess with me OR the kid they picked on. Julie reminded me of a jock who picked on Charlotte just because she chose a non-rock song.
She smiled, and then let out a sigh. “I was really nervous for today. I had all of these questions in my head: Who else was going to be in the band? What’s it like to play rock n’ roll music? Why did they pick me?”
“I’m guessing you figured out it was a girl band when you walked in?” I probed.
“Yes,” she answered. “And I found that very cool. This seems like it’ll be a fun experience. Rock n’ roll music isn’t that bad to play.”
Rock and roll music was the gift from the gods. I should say that out loud, but I’d sound like a weirdo. “It isn’t,” I said instead. “So are you wondering why we picked you?”
She nodded slowly. “I was curious about that. I mean, there’s nothing really special about me, unless there is?”
“Oh there is,” I stated rather quickly. “So the story is that Lowe and I went to search for a singer yesterday. Well, it was originally me and Betty finding members, but she hung out with Julie after she joined in on the band idea for the rest of the night. I told Lowe about the singer idea when I met him. Lowe wanted to find someone that night because we were already at a place where we could pick someone. So we picked you because you stood out from everyone else that was in the club. You had that…that spark, that unique-quality no one else can obtain. I thought you had a rad style too.”
“Aw thank you,” her cheeks grew red. “I’m used to being the second-best, you know? It’s a really nice, warm feeling that this time I’m first-best, and this is for something that’s sort of huge.”
“I know how that goes, being second-best and all,” I said. I could relate to that a lot because of the friends I had back in high school. They treated me like dirt and made me feel like that, even worse. “I’m happy that you turned out to be a super nice girl, not some brat.”
“Like Julie?” Charlotte started to laugh.
I laughed along. “Yes, like her!”
“Anyway, I’m glad I got this opportunity to be a part of a band. It just made life a little bit better.”
I was curious by that. “Why? Was life not good before?”
She bit her lip. “Not exactly, but it wasn’t the best. My parents are divorced and my mom decided to move in with her boyfriend just recently, and he’s a douche bag, so that made me upset. I live with my dad now and it sucks living there. We don’t get along; we never have.”
“That sucks,” I told her. “How come you and your dad don’t get along?”
“He’s mean to me,” she said. “He blames me for the divorce and he’s just crazy, that’s all I can say. He’s an alcoholic too, which makes things worse. He gets angry when he drinks too much, so he takes it out on me.”
“My dad’s a partial alcoholic,” I responded. “He does drugs too, and his habits caused my mom to leave. I can see where you’re coming from.”
“Your parents are divorced too?” She asked, tilting her head to the side.
“Yeah, for a couple of years,” I answered. “My mom’s a bitch and my dad’s just messed up. I don’t live with either parent. I don’t need my dad’s shit and I don’t talk to my mom anymore.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” she told me, a sad look stretched across her face. She really was sorry because she sort of knew what I was going through. “But hey, we’re sort of creating a new family with the band we have.”
“Yeah, a pretty fucked-up family we’re starting,” I started to chuckle.
We both sipped on our Mountain Dews. Charlotte was a pretty interesting girl. I didn’t know she’d have some of the family issues I have, or, at least similar family issues. It sucks whenever people have family problems like that. No one really deserves it, kids and teens especially. Hell, I didn’t ask for Dad and Mom to split and all shit like that. Charlotte didn’t either with her parents.
“Hey I’m going to use the bathroom,” she said a loud.
The second I heard ‘bathroom’, I immediately went on full-alert. “Wait! Don’t use it!”
“Why?” She looked startled.
“You’d rather hold in your piss, I’ll tell you that,” I told her.
“What? Is it bad in there or something?” She asked. “If it’s about the toilet seat, I can just put toilet paper—”
“It’s a fucking sex lounge in there,” I interrupted. “Trust me; you don’t wanna walk in there.”
“Who’s going to be having sex in the bathrooms? It’s not that busy in here right now.”
I shrugged. She had a point. “Well, it’s a possibility.”
She laughed. “You’re right, but if I do see people in there fucking, it’s not like I’m going to watch it happen and listen to it.” She stammered. “What? Do you?”
“No,” I mumbled. “It’s just I can’t take a nice piss to the sound of people having sex.”
“I’m different; I can take noises while going to the bathroom.”
I snorted. “Fine, go ahead. If you have to pee, then you gotta pee. I won’t stop you.”
She flipped me off and gave me an evil glare and then sprinted away towards the bathroom which was over by the Sit n’ Relax area. I stared into my bottle and swirled around the last remaining liquid of pop. I stared at the clock which was hanging across from me. It was almost 7 o’clock. I hope Charlotte’s dad doesn’t have a curfew for her to be home early since it was a weekday.
“Is she done with her drink?” The bartender asked, lifting up the bottle.
“Yeah, it looks empty,” I answered. “You can dump it. We’ll be leaving shortly anyways.”
He gave me a nod and went over to the trash bin to throw away the bottle. I grabbed a couple of peanuts from the small bowl in front of me and threw them in my mouth. I drank the rest of my Mountain Dew. I don’t know why I don’t get Mountain Dew a lot because I really should. I like drinking it. I guess I just get focused on drinking alcoholic beverages and forget that there are other things such as pop out in the world. I do stay hydrated on water though because I learned my lesson about that a long time ago when I fainted at a concert from being dehydrated. Lesson well learned, I must say.
I saw Charlotte walk back from the bathrooms and she had this cheesy grin on her face, almost looking like a chipmunk. “You fucking bitch! You were so right about the bathrooms!”
“That’s why you should’ve listened to me,” I told her in a smart-ass remark.
“Yeah, there was a man and a woman having sex in there. The guy had the girl pinned down on the floor while he was shoving his you know what in her really hard. He had a large one; I could tell. The girl was moaning and stuff. It was nice to pee since I had to go really bad, but I did not enjoy the view or sounds they were making.”
“Ah, so were they done when you were done pissing?” I asked.
“I don’t know, I’m not that pervy,” she replied.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You are if you analyzed the size of the guy’s dick.”
“Oh please!” She scoffed. “I just happened to notice it and I assumed from there on!”
I creased my eyebrows. Sure she says that…I smiled to myself. “Was the girl nice looking?” I asked.
“She was pretty,” she answered. “She could do better than the guy that she was doing it with.”
I stood up from the chair. “Oh yeah, it seems like it. Hey do you want to head out?”
“That’d be nice,” she said. “My dad has a curfew for me to be home at 8:30 on weekdays.”
“Alright, let’s go then.”
--
I walk her back to her house, which is about a mile away from my house. She lives on the better part of town where the streets are taken care of every once in a while and the neighborhood families aren’t so bad to live by. Her dad’s house was like many other homes in the neighborhood she lives in. It was a pasty-light yellow with a tan roof. While we were walking, she had explained to me why she was almost late to practice because she couldn’t drive yet. Her dad won’t let her get her license, which is bullshit. She was happy to hear that I couldn’t drive either because I didn’t have a car. Besides, it’s fun to walk around everywhere than to drive.
“Thanks for hanging out,” she smiled. “I had fun. You’re probably one of the coolest people I’ve met ever.”
My heart melted at that. “No problem. And thanks! You’re a pretty cool person yourself too.”
She had this gleam in her eye when she smiled even bigger. She stepped a little closer to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. A hug and we barely even know each other? I’ll take that. I wrapped my arms around her waist. And this even wasn’t one of those awkward hugs. We were close; our bodies were touching.
“What’s with the hug?” I just had to ask.
“I don’t know, you were just nice to me today,” she mumbled to me onto my shoulder. “I appreciated that.”
“Ah well you’re welcome,” I told her.
We let go and I stuck my hands in my pockets. “I should let you get going. Your dad will kill you if you’re past curfew.”
“I should,” she said, a little down. “I’ll see you later though.”
I waved to her and she started to walk up her driveway to the front porch of her house, giving me one more glance before she entered inside her house. I think I’m developing a little crush on her.
*Chapter 5 will be here soon.
Last edited by Psychotic Music Head on 2/24/2013, 2:56 am; edited 10 times in total
thanks!
