An Untitled Tale, chapter 2
Fuckin' parents. Making her get a summer job. They have been saying that she "needed to get her act in gear" ever since they figured out that she had been skipping school. This wasn't just any summer job, but a summer job that happened to suck. A summer job she just got fired from. Of course, the manager didn't put it that way. He had said in a polite tone that "They would no longer be needing her sevices." Hah. "Services." She bagged fuckin' groceries at a Stop-and-Shop.
She drove around for awhile, avoiding the bashing she would get from her parents. She knew just what they would say:
"What? You got fired? Lord, Naomi!"
"You're wasting your life at that punk rock club!"
"You come home smelling like smoke!"
"You haven't been trying your hardest in school!"
"Naomi, are you even listening?"
Basically anything was better than that.
She drove around for awhile, looking for a place to kill some time before she had to return home. Without really knowing what she was doing, she drove up to an all too familar building: Gilman Street. Since it was pretty late, she assumed that some high school band was playing, and the sound of the blaring music that reached her once she approached the club confirmed this.
She entered the building, immediately overcome with the scent of marijuana, beer, and some undistinguishable smell that reminded Naomi or a public restroom. The seventeen-year-old was glad to see that a band was just setting up, so she hadn't missed anything.
With a push here and a shove there, she worked her way up to the stage in order to get a better view in the sea of mohawks.
She craned her neck only to see that the band was ready to play. Naomi didn't reconize the trio. "They must be new," she thought to herself.
"Hi. We're, uh, The Sweet Children, as some of you might know."
Naomi looked up at the lead singer, who was introducing the band, and she was amazed. Those eyes. They were the most brillant shade of green. The brightest she had ever seen. They seemed to sparkle and twinkle under the light. She quickly averted her gaze before the frontman noticed that she had been staring at him, mouth agape, for quite awhile.
"You might remember this one. This is Paper Lanterns."
They suddenly broke into the fast, loud song. Naomi was impressed. These Sweet Children were a bunch of amateurs, but they sure as hell didn't sound like it. She moshed around with the crowd, the music moving her this way and that.
They played 10 more songs, and then the frontman ended the set with a few thank yous. Naomi stepped outside. Her head was pounding, she was sweating like a pig under her denim jacket, and she really needed some fresh air.
"Amazing" Naomi thought to herself, as she leaned her back against a graffitied wall and slowly lowered herself onto the pavement. "That was one fucking amazing show." She pulled out a lighter, lit a cigarette, and placed it in her mouth.
After the adrenaline wore off, her situation came back to her. Fired. She had been fired. What would her parents do once they found out? Probably kick her out, they would be so fed up with her. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, deep in thought.
"Mind if I have a smoke?"
The sound of his voice nearly scared her shitless. She looked up. There they were again. Those eyes. The eyes that twinkled when light shone down on them. The eyes that you could get lost in forever.
"Um, sure, I guess" she replied, holding out her package of cigarettes. He kneeled down and graciously accepted a smoke.
"Thanks," he said back, his eyes meeting her's. Shit. Why did he have to do that?
"Mm hmm," she murmed through the cigarette that was loosely hanging out of her mouth. What else was there to say? She turned away from The Eyes.
"You guys, were, uh, pretty kick ass." There. That seemed appropriate.
He seemed interested that she thought so. "Really?" he asked with a grin.
"Yeah," she answered, smoke filling her lungs. "I haven't seen you play here before."
"Well, we've had other gigs, but we just started playing at Gilman Street. Pretty good for beginners, eh?" he said with a grin. The Eyes looked back at her, brillant and green.
"Yeah," she said, trying to escape his gaze. "Really good."
Neither knew what to say next. They just sat there in silence. Not really an awkward silence, more of a peaceful one. It was quiet nonetheless. All that could be heard was the faint sound of an Operation Ivy song being performed inside the punk rock club.
Breaking the silence, he asked, "What's your name, anyway?"
"Naomi. Who are you?"
"Billie Joe."
Another silence. This time it was awkward. Naomi looked down at her watch. Oh, shit. It was 11:30. Her mom was going to blow a blood vessel or two if she knew where she had been all night.
"Well, nice meeting you, Mr. Joe," she stated hurriedly, getting up from her position on the ground. "But I really gotta go now."
"Nice meeting you too, Miss. Naomi," he replied jokingly. "Will you be back at Gilman's soon?"
She turned around a flashed him a smile.
"Probably. Best home I've got."
Billie smiled at this comment. "Agreed," he murmered as the young girl got into her car and drove away.
She drove around for awhile, avoiding the bashing she would get from her parents. She knew just what they would say:
"What? You got fired? Lord, Naomi!"
"You're wasting your life at that punk rock club!"
"You come home smelling like smoke!"
"You haven't been trying your hardest in school!"
"Naomi, are you even listening?"
Basically anything was better than that.
She drove around for awhile, looking for a place to kill some time before she had to return home. Without really knowing what she was doing, she drove up to an all too familar building: Gilman Street. Since it was pretty late, she assumed that some high school band was playing, and the sound of the blaring music that reached her once she approached the club confirmed this.
She entered the building, immediately overcome with the scent of marijuana, beer, and some undistinguishable smell that reminded Naomi or a public restroom. The seventeen-year-old was glad to see that a band was just setting up, so she hadn't missed anything.
With a push here and a shove there, she worked her way up to the stage in order to get a better view in the sea of mohawks.
She craned her neck only to see that the band was ready to play. Naomi didn't reconize the trio. "They must be new," she thought to herself.
"Hi. We're, uh, The Sweet Children, as some of you might know."
Naomi looked up at the lead singer, who was introducing the band, and she was amazed. Those eyes. They were the most brillant shade of green. The brightest she had ever seen. They seemed to sparkle and twinkle under the light. She quickly averted her gaze before the frontman noticed that she had been staring at him, mouth agape, for quite awhile.
"You might remember this one. This is Paper Lanterns."
They suddenly broke into the fast, loud song. Naomi was impressed. These Sweet Children were a bunch of amateurs, but they sure as hell didn't sound like it. She moshed around with the crowd, the music moving her this way and that.
They played 10 more songs, and then the frontman ended the set with a few thank yous. Naomi stepped outside. Her head was pounding, she was sweating like a pig under her denim jacket, and she really needed some fresh air.
"Amazing" Naomi thought to herself, as she leaned her back against a graffitied wall and slowly lowered herself onto the pavement. "That was one fucking amazing show." She pulled out a lighter, lit a cigarette, and placed it in her mouth.
After the adrenaline wore off, her situation came back to her. Fired. She had been fired. What would her parents do once they found out? Probably kick her out, they would be so fed up with her. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, deep in thought.
"Mind if I have a smoke?"
The sound of his voice nearly scared her shitless. She looked up. There they were again. Those eyes. The eyes that twinkled when light shone down on them. The eyes that you could get lost in forever.
"Um, sure, I guess" she replied, holding out her package of cigarettes. He kneeled down and graciously accepted a smoke.
"Thanks," he said back, his eyes meeting her's. Shit. Why did he have to do that?
"Mm hmm," she murmed through the cigarette that was loosely hanging out of her mouth. What else was there to say? She turned away from The Eyes.
"You guys, were, uh, pretty kick ass." There. That seemed appropriate.
He seemed interested that she thought so. "Really?" he asked with a grin.
"Yeah," she answered, smoke filling her lungs. "I haven't seen you play here before."
"Well, we've had other gigs, but we just started playing at Gilman Street. Pretty good for beginners, eh?" he said with a grin. The Eyes looked back at her, brillant and green.
"Yeah," she said, trying to escape his gaze. "Really good."
Neither knew what to say next. They just sat there in silence. Not really an awkward silence, more of a peaceful one. It was quiet nonetheless. All that could be heard was the faint sound of an Operation Ivy song being performed inside the punk rock club.
Breaking the silence, he asked, "What's your name, anyway?"
"Naomi. Who are you?"
"Billie Joe."
Another silence. This time it was awkward. Naomi looked down at her watch. Oh, shit. It was 11:30. Her mom was going to blow a blood vessel or two if she knew where she had been all night.
"Well, nice meeting you, Mr. Joe," she stated hurriedly, getting up from her position on the ground. "But I really gotta go now."
"Nice meeting you too, Miss. Naomi," he replied jokingly. "Will you be back at Gilman's soon?"
She turned around a flashed him a smile.
"Probably. Best home I've got."
Billie smiled at this comment. "Agreed," he murmered as the young girl got into her car and drove away.
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