This Love Drives Me Into Madness, chapter 14
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"Okay. So this is how it's gonna go," Larry began to explain. "You guys will play a couple gigs around the city and see how the people like you. And if they do...we'll working your new album." He smiles at us. "When it's finished, you'll begin opening for bands like Good Charlotte, My Chemical Romance...Green Day. Then, you'll go on your tour."
"Alright, cool," Briana nodded.
"This is going to be so freakin' sweet," I said.
"Fuck yes," Ian agreed.
"I see you guys are excited," Larry commented.
"Duh..." I muttered.
"Erin..."
"Double-yoo-tee-eff, Bri?! I know that you were thinking the same thing!" She sighed.
"Don't sigh at me!" I scolded. "Oh...I get it. You're still pissed off about me saying 'god damn'. Just get over it. That's the first time I've said it in years."
"Erin, you know how close I am to my religion," Briana sighed again.
"Yeah. And you know I don't believe in God."
"But it doesn't mean you can go around saying His name in vein near religious people!"
"First Amendment, dear. Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religous or probhibiting the free exercise of; or abringing the freedom of speech or of the press; or the right of the people peacefully assemble and to petition the government for redress of grievences," I stated. "Probably three quarters of that isn't important in this case, but notice how I emphesized the words freedom of speech."
"I didn't need a lesson in Social Studies, Erin."
"Apparently, you did," I said before leaving the studio.
***
"Damn shit piss monkey mother fucker," I mumbled as I stumbled into the house. I threw my jacket onto the couch and walked into the garage. "Ready to be played like a mad-man, Dirnt?" I asked my bass that sat in the corner.
I plugged it into my amplifier and turned up the volume. I grabbed a pick and began playing Sugar, We're Going Down by Fallout Boy. Not very long after starting, I quit and moved onto the drums. St. Jimmy by Green Day was my choice. I, surprisingly, heard the phone ring over my loud drumming. I shot up from my stool and ran into the opem house. "Pissed off woman speaking. How may I help you?" I answered.
"Aw...why is Erin so angry?" a woman asked in a baby voice.
"Omigod... Lyzz?"
"Hey fexy," she said.
"Oh yeah! That's right! I'm so fucking sexy, biznatch!" I chuckled. "Just kidding. Anyway... How are you doing? I haven't talking to you in months."
"I'm good. Just standing outside. Talkin' to you. Waiting for--WILL YOU JUST OPEN THE FRONT DOOR?!"
"What the fuck?" I muttered to myself as I walked to the door. Looking through the peak hole, I dropped the phone on the floor.
I opened the door and screeched in excitement. "LYZZ!"
"That's my name! Don't wear it out!" she smiled.
"Omigod... This is so great," I mumbled happily.
"Where's Bri?" Lyzz asked.
"Back at the studio with Ian and Larry," I rolled my eyes.
"I sense an argument," Lyzz said.
"No," I sighed. "Ya think?"
"I don't think," she stated, "I know."
"Whatever," I murmured, "Come inside."
***
-Briana's Point Of View-
So, you're that religious?" Ian inquired as we walked down the streets of Oakland.
"Yeah," I answered. He sighed. "What?" I chuckled.
"I dunno," he shrugged, "You don't seem like it. I mean...how could you be so close to God if you're writing songs about cutting and...and...er...cutting?"
"Mainly because all of the songs I write come from my past," I said.
"Holy shit," Ian muttered. "You cut yourself?"
"Not anymore."
"Okay. Good."
***
Ian and I stepped inside the house. It was quiet, except for hearing Dirnt being plucked. I walked into the garage to see a blonde-haired woman holding Erin's bass, and playing. She looked up at me. "BRIANA!"
"Alright, cool," Briana nodded.
"This is going to be so freakin' sweet," I said.
"Fuck yes," Ian agreed.
"I see you guys are excited," Larry commented.
"Duh..." I muttered.
"Erin..."
"Double-yoo-tee-eff, Bri?! I know that you were thinking the same thing!" She sighed.
"Don't sigh at me!" I scolded. "Oh...I get it. You're still pissed off about me saying 'god damn'. Just get over it. That's the first time I've said it in years."
"Erin, you know how close I am to my religion," Briana sighed again.
"Yeah. And you know I don't believe in God."
"But it doesn't mean you can go around saying His name in vein near religious people!"
"First Amendment, dear. Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religous or probhibiting the free exercise of; or abringing the freedom of speech or of the press; or the right of the people peacefully assemble and to petition the government for redress of grievences," I stated. "Probably three quarters of that isn't important in this case, but notice how I emphesized the words freedom of speech."
"I didn't need a lesson in Social Studies, Erin."
"Apparently, you did," I said before leaving the studio.
***
"Damn shit piss monkey mother fucker," I mumbled as I stumbled into the house. I threw my jacket onto the couch and walked into the garage. "Ready to be played like a mad-man, Dirnt?" I asked my bass that sat in the corner.
I plugged it into my amplifier and turned up the volume. I grabbed a pick and began playing Sugar, We're Going Down by Fallout Boy. Not very long after starting, I quit and moved onto the drums. St. Jimmy by Green Day was my choice. I, surprisingly, heard the phone ring over my loud drumming. I shot up from my stool and ran into the opem house. "Pissed off woman speaking. How may I help you?" I answered.
"Aw...why is Erin so angry?" a woman asked in a baby voice.
"Omigod... Lyzz?"
"Hey fexy," she said.
"Oh yeah! That's right! I'm so fucking sexy, biznatch!" I chuckled. "Just kidding. Anyway... How are you doing? I haven't talking to you in months."
"I'm good. Just standing outside. Talkin' to you. Waiting for--WILL YOU JUST OPEN THE FRONT DOOR?!"
"What the fuck?" I muttered to myself as I walked to the door. Looking through the peak hole, I dropped the phone on the floor.
I opened the door and screeched in excitement. "LYZZ!"
"That's my name! Don't wear it out!" she smiled.
"Omigod... This is so great," I mumbled happily.
"Where's Bri?" Lyzz asked.
"Back at the studio with Ian and Larry," I rolled my eyes.
"I sense an argument," Lyzz said.
"No," I sighed. "Ya think?"
"I don't think," she stated, "I know."
"Whatever," I murmured, "Come inside."
***
-Briana's Point Of View-
So, you're that religious?" Ian inquired as we walked down the streets of Oakland.
"Yeah," I answered. He sighed. "What?" I chuckled.
"I dunno," he shrugged, "You don't seem like it. I mean...how could you be so close to God if you're writing songs about cutting and...and...er...cutting?"
"Mainly because all of the songs I write come from my past," I said.
"Holy shit," Ian muttered. "You cut yourself?"
"Not anymore."
"Okay. Good."
***
Ian and I stepped inside the house. It was quiet, except for hearing Dirnt being plucked. I walked into the garage to see a blonde-haired woman holding Erin's bass, and playing. She looked up at me. "BRIANA!"
