Fall All Over Again, chapter 1
"Don't leave me!"
The final chords rang out through the bar, along with voices of pleased and displeased 'fans'.
"Boo! Learn how to write songs! What a lovey sap! And I was told you guys were punk. What a fuckin' joke!"
The attention was no longer on the band in front of the large crowd, but on two punk girls putting down Sweet Children. Most people scoffed in disgust at the girls, but then there were the 'hard cores' who just cheered on the insolent girls.
"Why don't one of you get your sorry asses up there then and show everyone what you've got... Um... Whatever your name is." One of the audience members shouted at the pale-skinned chick that had black and blonde streaks through her naturally dark brown hair.
"Fine. And its Laura, but the cool kids call me Pags."
"Go get 'em Pags!" Laura's best friend Ash called to her.
Before leaving Ash's side, they did their little 'handshake' or one could call it.
"Haha! And I thought you said the 'cool kids'."
"Oh go choke on a dick." Laura shouted to the obnoxious, short, stocky boy while exchanging glares with his icy eyes.
Laura approached the stage and walked up the steps.
"Yeah I need a guitar... And you need to get your ass out of the way." Laura said to the boy who was still on stage taking his sticky pics off of the mic stand.
"You want to use mine?" The singer piped up.
"Haha! Play on that thing? You've got to be kidding me."
"Unless you have a better idea or a guitar in your pocket, then yeah, I am serious. All you need is a body, a neck, and strings and you're good. So what do you say?"
Laura contemplated the idea for a moment, after looking around to find no other available instruments.
"Whatever. Seems as though I have no choice. Uh... Thanks I guess um..."
"Its Bil-" but the boy was cut off.
"Get this damn show on the road! I want to see what you're made of!" The same kid that suggested the idea in the first place said.
The singer shrugged and walked off stage as Laura fished a pick out of her back pocket and adjusted the guitar strap on her shoulder. She strummed the open strings and went through the pentatonic forms just to get warmed up.
The microphone seemed to be the perfect height and the strap on the guitar was just the right length. The blue guitar matched her light blue and black vest perfectly and Laura played better on this guitar than any that she has ever owned, but she took no notice because the thought of using the 'punk wanna-be's' stuff made her stomach churn.
"Uh okay... I'll just get started with some Pat Benetar just to warm up. Hit Me With Your Best Shot. You boys know it?" Laura nodded to the bass player and drummer.
"Yeah. We know it... But the question is can you handle a song like that?" Laura just laughed.
Laura had the lungs for that song, so it seemed like the right choice to strut her stuff. Not only was it a great song to sing but there was a mad guitar solo in there that let her show a little more to look good.
Well you're a real tough cookie
With a long history
Of breaking lil' hearts like the one in me
That's okay lets see how you do it
Put up your dukes
Let's get down to it
Hit me with your best shot
Why don't ya hit me with your best shot?
Hit me with your best shot
Fire away!
You come on with a come on
You don't fight fair
But that's okay see if I care
Knock me down
It's all in vain
I'll get right back on my feet again
Hit me with your best shot
Why don't ya hit me with your best shot?
Hit me with your best shot
Fire away!
Laura rocked the vocals and just when it didn't seem possible for the singer's jaws to get lower and eyes to get wider, she busted out into the solo and improvised a little more just to give it a more original sound. At this point the singer's jaw was on the floor and his eyes were six inches out of his head.
Well you're a real tough cookie
With a long history
Of breakin' lil' hearts like the one in me
Before I put another notch in my lipstick case
You better make sure you put me in my place
Hit me with your best shot
Come on! Hit me with your best shot
Hit me with your best shot
Fire away
Hit me with your best shot
Why don't you hit me with your best shot?
Hit me with your best shot
Fire awayyyyyyyyyyyayay!
When the song finished, the drummer and the bass player looked at each other wide eyed. The crowd went wild after absorbing everything that they just heard.
"Yeah, that's all for now. I don't want to blow you away too much 'cause I need to exercise my bragging rights still." Laura laughed into the microphone.
The singer walked back onto the stage to collect his remaining belongings, including his guitar.
"Whoa, that was wild." He said.
Laura just looked at him and 'I told you so' was written all over her face.
"Yeah, it was okay. I mean I've played better. I just don't see why I am wasting my time proving that to some sappy... Small... Lovey guitarist. You can go wallow in your self-pity somewhere else. People like us at Gilman don't need posers to fill up the time slots. It's hard enough to get in as is." Every word was spoken condescendingly, making the singer feel small and untalented.
Laura wretched the guitar off from around her neck and practically threw it at the singer. She began to walk away, leaving the singer a bit crushed, before she stopped and said her last words.
"Here's a word of advice. Either give up on writing songs, or find some new inspiration. You're bringing shame to the word 'punk. ' Come 'round this place when you have better material. Until then... Keep your day job... Uh."
"Billie Joe." He finished almost shamefully.
"Right." With that she eyed his body with an unimpressed look on her face and walked off back to Ashley.
Ash greeted Laura with their little 'handshake swipe'.
"Haha you so owned that little fucker." Ashley scoffed.
"Yeah, yeah I know. I can't help almost feeling sorry for the little bugger. His lyrics are sappy and the rhythms are too straightforward. They need a moving bass line, but he has a good voice. I almost feel bad for showing him up at his own gig." Laura looked a little guilt stricken for a moment before Ash broke her thoughts.
"Keyword there though: Almost." Laura cracked a smile.
"True, but what do you say we ditch this place and head over to Trash's house and get drunk. I need a good party after that."
"Haha, alright let's bail."
Laura left money for the drinks on the bar and caught one last glimpse of Billie Joe watching her walk out and laughed at his pathetic ness.
Oh boo hoo. Poor little twat. I can't help but lure him in just to break his heart. This should be fun.
*
There she goes. She may seem like a bitch, and she may have showed me up during my own gig, and she may have ruined my reputation around Gilman, but I can't help but dig her. To this day I'm still asking why.
*
"Trash! Hey, what's up?" Laura and Ash walked through Lauren's (a. K. A. Trash's) back door to be greeted by the tender aroma of pot and a fresh twenty-four pack of beer on the counter.
"Ashie! Laursssss! Come join the fun!" Lauren slurred.
"Seems you've already started the party without us." Ash joked as she fetched three beers.
"Well cheers to me kickin' that fucker, Billie Joe's, ass at Gilman and to getting wasted!"
Trash, Laura, and Ashley knocked their beer cans together and greedily slurped down the bittersweet liquid.
"Wait you mean Billie Joe, the lead singer of Sweet Children?" Trash said, beginning to sober up at the sound of his name.
"Yeah, something like that, why?" Laura inquired.
"He's my cousin, stupid. Be nice! He's searching for a record company to administer the recording of his album." Lauren was a bit more sobered by now.
"Oh. Well forget about him for now! We have a twenty four pack to knock through and a couple more 6 packs in the basement." Ash joked.
"I'll drink to that!" Laura laughed.
Later that Night
The door unlocked and clicked open.
"Aunt Debbie? Lauren? Anyone here?"
The boy wandered into the kitchen to find a note addressed to him on the counter:
Billie,
The records are in a box in the garage and I left a pie for you and your mum to enjoy. It's in the refrigerator in the garage. If you need help ask Lauren.
Love,
Aunt Debbie
Okay now to find this pie and the records. Billie thought to himself.
He walked down the hall and before he turned the corner he stopped when he heard a slight grumbling and smelled a mixture of pot smoke and burning rubber. Billie went around the corner in the hallway and saw smoke escaping from the crack in the top of the door and began to sprint toward the scene. He jerked open the door to find the corner of the floor mat on fire and three passed out bodies on the opposite side of the rug.
"Oh SHIT!" Billie yelled as he ran over to the three motionless bodies on the floor and couch. Trying to avoid slipping on the beer cans, Billie jolts over to Trash and Ashley and shook them furiously.
"Lauren? Girls come on wake up! The house is on fire! Get up! Come on!" Billie slaps their faces a little and eventually gives up and hauls Lauren off of the couch and onto his back. He runs as fast as he can through the smoky halls and drops Lauren on the front lawn as he dashes back in for the next person.
Billie Joe runs back into the garage and grabs his next victim, Ashley. Running short on breath Billie Joe bursts out the front door and plunders to the ground with Ashley, waking her up slightly.
"Wha- what happened?" Ashley asks groggily.
"The house- on fire- saved you." Billie manages to sputter out between gasps for air.
"No!" Ashley pauses. "Laura? Where's Laura?" Ashley asks slowly becoming alert enough to realize that only Lauren rests next to her.
"Laura? She- in there!?" But before Ashley is able to respond, Billie is on his feet again running into the house.
He slams open the front door and instantly feels the particles of smoke burning his eyes. He runs back into the garage, feeling the smoke become thicker and thicker. He gets on his knees and crawls through the dense air, in search of Laura. Finally he stumbles upon a hand flung out on the floor and follows it up the arm to find a passed out familiar face next to him. He slings her onto his back, trying to be as quick as possible. Stumbling and struggling to get through the smoky halls, Billie collapses to his knees, in view of the door. Laura slides off his back as he falls over and rolls onto his back.
Billie Joe stares up at the engulfed rafters and hears popping from splitting wood and supports. Fading in and out Billie looks at Laura, thinking she is the last good thing he will every see in this life. A ringing is heard in the distance as his vision becomes even more blurred, and he begins to see spots and splotches of color fade his peripheral vision. The smoke and swirling colors finally engulf him, and pressure rests upon his arms, but not that of the falling rafters, or the deprivation of fresh oxygen, but the most comforting touch: rough gloves of a man.
All these thoughts clog his mind even more as he contemplates whether this is the end and what will happen to his family, to his band, to Laura lying on the floor next to him. His mind has began failing, sending him into an endless feeling of black everywhere.
But it can't be over yet. He's only seventeen.
The final chords rang out through the bar, along with voices of pleased and displeased 'fans'.
"Boo! Learn how to write songs! What a lovey sap! And I was told you guys were punk. What a fuckin' joke!"
The attention was no longer on the band in front of the large crowd, but on two punk girls putting down Sweet Children. Most people scoffed in disgust at the girls, but then there were the 'hard cores' who just cheered on the insolent girls.
"Why don't one of you get your sorry asses up there then and show everyone what you've got... Um... Whatever your name is." One of the audience members shouted at the pale-skinned chick that had black and blonde streaks through her naturally dark brown hair.
"Fine. And its Laura, but the cool kids call me Pags."
"Go get 'em Pags!" Laura's best friend Ash called to her.
Before leaving Ash's side, they did their little 'handshake' or one could call it.
"Haha! And I thought you said the 'cool kids'."
"Oh go choke on a dick." Laura shouted to the obnoxious, short, stocky boy while exchanging glares with his icy eyes.
Laura approached the stage and walked up the steps.
"Yeah I need a guitar... And you need to get your ass out of the way." Laura said to the boy who was still on stage taking his sticky pics off of the mic stand.
"You want to use mine?" The singer piped up.
"Haha! Play on that thing? You've got to be kidding me."
"Unless you have a better idea or a guitar in your pocket, then yeah, I am serious. All you need is a body, a neck, and strings and you're good. So what do you say?"
Laura contemplated the idea for a moment, after looking around to find no other available instruments.
"Whatever. Seems as though I have no choice. Uh... Thanks I guess um..."
"Its Bil-" but the boy was cut off.
"Get this damn show on the road! I want to see what you're made of!" The same kid that suggested the idea in the first place said.
The singer shrugged and walked off stage as Laura fished a pick out of her back pocket and adjusted the guitar strap on her shoulder. She strummed the open strings and went through the pentatonic forms just to get warmed up.
The microphone seemed to be the perfect height and the strap on the guitar was just the right length. The blue guitar matched her light blue and black vest perfectly and Laura played better on this guitar than any that she has ever owned, but she took no notice because the thought of using the 'punk wanna-be's' stuff made her stomach churn.
"Uh okay... I'll just get started with some Pat Benetar just to warm up. Hit Me With Your Best Shot. You boys know it?" Laura nodded to the bass player and drummer.
"Yeah. We know it... But the question is can you handle a song like that?" Laura just laughed.
Laura had the lungs for that song, so it seemed like the right choice to strut her stuff. Not only was it a great song to sing but there was a mad guitar solo in there that let her show a little more to look good.
Well you're a real tough cookie
With a long history
Of breaking lil' hearts like the one in me
That's okay lets see how you do it
Put up your dukes
Let's get down to it
Hit me with your best shot
Why don't ya hit me with your best shot?
Hit me with your best shot
Fire away!
You come on with a come on
You don't fight fair
But that's okay see if I care
Knock me down
It's all in vain
I'll get right back on my feet again
Hit me with your best shot
Why don't ya hit me with your best shot?
Hit me with your best shot
Fire away!
Laura rocked the vocals and just when it didn't seem possible for the singer's jaws to get lower and eyes to get wider, she busted out into the solo and improvised a little more just to give it a more original sound. At this point the singer's jaw was on the floor and his eyes were six inches out of his head.
Well you're a real tough cookie
With a long history
Of breakin' lil' hearts like the one in me
Before I put another notch in my lipstick case
You better make sure you put me in my place
Hit me with your best shot
Come on! Hit me with your best shot
Hit me with your best shot
Fire away
Hit me with your best shot
Why don't you hit me with your best shot?
Hit me with your best shot
Fire awayyyyyyyyyyyayay!
When the song finished, the drummer and the bass player looked at each other wide eyed. The crowd went wild after absorbing everything that they just heard.
"Yeah, that's all for now. I don't want to blow you away too much 'cause I need to exercise my bragging rights still." Laura laughed into the microphone.
The singer walked back onto the stage to collect his remaining belongings, including his guitar.
"Whoa, that was wild." He said.
Laura just looked at him and 'I told you so' was written all over her face.
"Yeah, it was okay. I mean I've played better. I just don't see why I am wasting my time proving that to some sappy... Small... Lovey guitarist. You can go wallow in your self-pity somewhere else. People like us at Gilman don't need posers to fill up the time slots. It's hard enough to get in as is." Every word was spoken condescendingly, making the singer feel small and untalented.
Laura wretched the guitar off from around her neck and practically threw it at the singer. She began to walk away, leaving the singer a bit crushed, before she stopped and said her last words.
"Here's a word of advice. Either give up on writing songs, or find some new inspiration. You're bringing shame to the word 'punk. ' Come 'round this place when you have better material. Until then... Keep your day job... Uh."
"Billie Joe." He finished almost shamefully.
"Right." With that she eyed his body with an unimpressed look on her face and walked off back to Ashley.
Ash greeted Laura with their little 'handshake swipe'.
"Haha you so owned that little fucker." Ashley scoffed.
"Yeah, yeah I know. I can't help almost feeling sorry for the little bugger. His lyrics are sappy and the rhythms are too straightforward. They need a moving bass line, but he has a good voice. I almost feel bad for showing him up at his own gig." Laura looked a little guilt stricken for a moment before Ash broke her thoughts.
"Keyword there though: Almost." Laura cracked a smile.
"True, but what do you say we ditch this place and head over to Trash's house and get drunk. I need a good party after that."
"Haha, alright let's bail."
Laura left money for the drinks on the bar and caught one last glimpse of Billie Joe watching her walk out and laughed at his pathetic ness.
Oh boo hoo. Poor little twat. I can't help but lure him in just to break his heart. This should be fun.
*
There she goes. She may seem like a bitch, and she may have showed me up during my own gig, and she may have ruined my reputation around Gilman, but I can't help but dig her. To this day I'm still asking why.
*
"Trash! Hey, what's up?" Laura and Ash walked through Lauren's (a. K. A. Trash's) back door to be greeted by the tender aroma of pot and a fresh twenty-four pack of beer on the counter.
"Ashie! Laursssss! Come join the fun!" Lauren slurred.
"Seems you've already started the party without us." Ash joked as she fetched three beers.
"Well cheers to me kickin' that fucker, Billie Joe's, ass at Gilman and to getting wasted!"
Trash, Laura, and Ashley knocked their beer cans together and greedily slurped down the bittersweet liquid.
"Wait you mean Billie Joe, the lead singer of Sweet Children?" Trash said, beginning to sober up at the sound of his name.
"Yeah, something like that, why?" Laura inquired.
"He's my cousin, stupid. Be nice! He's searching for a record company to administer the recording of his album." Lauren was a bit more sobered by now.
"Oh. Well forget about him for now! We have a twenty four pack to knock through and a couple more 6 packs in the basement." Ash joked.
"I'll drink to that!" Laura laughed.
Later that Night
The door unlocked and clicked open.
"Aunt Debbie? Lauren? Anyone here?"
The boy wandered into the kitchen to find a note addressed to him on the counter:
Billie,
The records are in a box in the garage and I left a pie for you and your mum to enjoy. It's in the refrigerator in the garage. If you need help ask Lauren.
Love,
Aunt Debbie
Okay now to find this pie and the records. Billie thought to himself.
He walked down the hall and before he turned the corner he stopped when he heard a slight grumbling and smelled a mixture of pot smoke and burning rubber. Billie went around the corner in the hallway and saw smoke escaping from the crack in the top of the door and began to sprint toward the scene. He jerked open the door to find the corner of the floor mat on fire and three passed out bodies on the opposite side of the rug.
"Oh SHIT!" Billie yelled as he ran over to the three motionless bodies on the floor and couch. Trying to avoid slipping on the beer cans, Billie jolts over to Trash and Ashley and shook them furiously.
"Lauren? Girls come on wake up! The house is on fire! Get up! Come on!" Billie slaps their faces a little and eventually gives up and hauls Lauren off of the couch and onto his back. He runs as fast as he can through the smoky halls and drops Lauren on the front lawn as he dashes back in for the next person.
Billie Joe runs back into the garage and grabs his next victim, Ashley. Running short on breath Billie Joe bursts out the front door and plunders to the ground with Ashley, waking her up slightly.
"Wha- what happened?" Ashley asks groggily.
"The house- on fire- saved you." Billie manages to sputter out between gasps for air.
"No!" Ashley pauses. "Laura? Where's Laura?" Ashley asks slowly becoming alert enough to realize that only Lauren rests next to her.
"Laura? She- in there!?" But before Ashley is able to respond, Billie is on his feet again running into the house.
He slams open the front door and instantly feels the particles of smoke burning his eyes. He runs back into the garage, feeling the smoke become thicker and thicker. He gets on his knees and crawls through the dense air, in search of Laura. Finally he stumbles upon a hand flung out on the floor and follows it up the arm to find a passed out familiar face next to him. He slings her onto his back, trying to be as quick as possible. Stumbling and struggling to get through the smoky halls, Billie collapses to his knees, in view of the door. Laura slides off his back as he falls over and rolls onto his back.
Billie Joe stares up at the engulfed rafters and hears popping from splitting wood and supports. Fading in and out Billie looks at Laura, thinking she is the last good thing he will every see in this life. A ringing is heard in the distance as his vision becomes even more blurred, and he begins to see spots and splotches of color fade his peripheral vision. The smoke and swirling colors finally engulf him, and pressure rests upon his arms, but not that of the falling rafters, or the deprivation of fresh oxygen, but the most comforting touch: rough gloves of a man.
All these thoughts clog his mind even more as he contemplates whether this is the end and what will happen to his family, to his band, to Laura lying on the floor next to him. His mind has began failing, sending him into an endless feeling of black everywhere.
But it can't be over yet. He's only seventeen.
