I want to be on TV / the fabulous fantasy life of Hesta, chapter 7
"What's the best key for you to sing in?"
You could tell Stokell was still stung about having to hand over his position as lead vocalist.
"D minor, C or G maybe?"
"How about F?"
"Fine"
It took Stokell and Harry about twenty minutes to block out the sentimental drivel with power chords and a guitar solo. That would be Stokell's shining moment. He wrote most of the tune, but Harry worked out my tune, which I was thankful for since I wasn't looking forward to telling Stokell I didn't sing flats on a major scale.
By the end of the hour we had written and rehearsed 'Shut-eyed vision' and we were on to talking about the weekend.
"Come round mine on Saturday and we'll get some more songs finished, then we'll have all of Sunday and next week to practise"
"Sunday?" I had obviously under-estimated the amount of time spent being in a band
"Me and Harry are meeting at the forum to hire a practise room, I'll fill you in on the details tomorrow"
"Okies, see you then"
"Bye" sang Harry
I left to walk the walk again, dreading getting to the form room to tell Sarah I was going to be a bit busy in Saturday.
---------------------------------
Another Stokell dictated rehearsal passed and Saturday arrived. So I made the effort to get out of bed and put on a nice t-shirt before meeting at his house near South Park for eleven. Even if I'd forgotten the house number I'd have known where to knock. His window had been entirely covered by a massive Green Day poster of the American Idiot heart grenade. How fitting.
He let me in, and led me past the living room and past curious glances from his mom, up the stairs and into his room. It was your average male mess heap. I sat myself down on his bed, he sat down on the floor and we waited in silence. We didn't even look at each other, he was suddenly fascinated by something under his bed that he was staring intently at, and I was busy running my eyes around his room.
He had a medium sized CD collection; I could see some green day, blink 182 and good charlotte sticking out. His walls were plastered with posters of bands; my chemical romance was glaring down at me from above a shelf. His floor had been cleared in a hurry, as pile of clothes was half hidden in a corner.
When Harry arrived it broke the tension. He merrily leapt on the bed, making me bounce, and started talking loudly about his plans to buy a new drums kit. Stokell and me sat and nodded.
"... so that should cost me my birthday and Christmas money from my parents... oh and I almost forgot, I thought of a better band name"
My eyes lit up,
"Enzyme"
Stokell looked defeated, but said
"How about 'the' enzymes?"
"So long as I'm 'miss' enzyme you boys can battle this one out", I fluttered my eyelashes
"How about 'thrice' enzyme?"
"What does that mean?"
"Three enzymes"
"How about 'no', it's too specific"
"You name it then"
"Okay then... red enzyme"
"You always do that!"
"What?"
"Rip off versions of Green Day or Blink 182, you have no original ideas!"
"But isn't red a type of enzyme?"
"That's a red blood cell you fool, and were not using that either!"
"Why not, it sounds like a good name"
"It's stupid and immature to steal people's ideas Stokell"
"I'm not stealing"
"No you're copying, and that's worse"
"How is it?"
"It just is"
"Shut up, started this band, I get the last say"
"No you don't its group decisions"
"OI!!!!!!!!"
I shouted to shut them both up. They were like infants; they both frowned and looked away from one another.
"We'll be the enzymes for the moment but if we think of a better name we'll ALL decide to change it"
You could tell Stokell was still stung about having to hand over his position as lead vocalist.
"D minor, C or G maybe?"
"How about F?"
"Fine"
It took Stokell and Harry about twenty minutes to block out the sentimental drivel with power chords and a guitar solo. That would be Stokell's shining moment. He wrote most of the tune, but Harry worked out my tune, which I was thankful for since I wasn't looking forward to telling Stokell I didn't sing flats on a major scale.
By the end of the hour we had written and rehearsed 'Shut-eyed vision' and we were on to talking about the weekend.
"Come round mine on Saturday and we'll get some more songs finished, then we'll have all of Sunday and next week to practise"
"Sunday?" I had obviously under-estimated the amount of time spent being in a band
"Me and Harry are meeting at the forum to hire a practise room, I'll fill you in on the details tomorrow"
"Okies, see you then"
"Bye" sang Harry
I left to walk the walk again, dreading getting to the form room to tell Sarah I was going to be a bit busy in Saturday.
---------------------------------
Another Stokell dictated rehearsal passed and Saturday arrived. So I made the effort to get out of bed and put on a nice t-shirt before meeting at his house near South Park for eleven. Even if I'd forgotten the house number I'd have known where to knock. His window had been entirely covered by a massive Green Day poster of the American Idiot heart grenade. How fitting.
He let me in, and led me past the living room and past curious glances from his mom, up the stairs and into his room. It was your average male mess heap. I sat myself down on his bed, he sat down on the floor and we waited in silence. We didn't even look at each other, he was suddenly fascinated by something under his bed that he was staring intently at, and I was busy running my eyes around his room.
He had a medium sized CD collection; I could see some green day, blink 182 and good charlotte sticking out. His walls were plastered with posters of bands; my chemical romance was glaring down at me from above a shelf. His floor had been cleared in a hurry, as pile of clothes was half hidden in a corner.
When Harry arrived it broke the tension. He merrily leapt on the bed, making me bounce, and started talking loudly about his plans to buy a new drums kit. Stokell and me sat and nodded.
"... so that should cost me my birthday and Christmas money from my parents... oh and I almost forgot, I thought of a better band name"
My eyes lit up,
"Enzyme"
Stokell looked defeated, but said
"How about 'the' enzymes?"
"So long as I'm 'miss' enzyme you boys can battle this one out", I fluttered my eyelashes
"How about 'thrice' enzyme?"
"What does that mean?"
"Three enzymes"
"How about 'no', it's too specific"
"You name it then"
"Okay then... red enzyme"
"You always do that!"
"What?"
"Rip off versions of Green Day or Blink 182, you have no original ideas!"
"But isn't red a type of enzyme?"
"That's a red blood cell you fool, and were not using that either!"
"Why not, it sounds like a good name"
"It's stupid and immature to steal people's ideas Stokell"
"I'm not stealing"
"No you're copying, and that's worse"
"How is it?"
"It just is"
"Shut up, started this band, I get the last say"
"No you don't its group decisions"
"OI!!!!!!!!"
I shouted to shut them both up. They were like infants; they both frowned and looked away from one another.
"We'll be the enzymes for the moment but if we think of a better name we'll ALL decide to change it"
