Adoption and childhood dreams, chapter 2
The next month, when John was leaving we held a party for him. I had seen Mike's point of view and lightened up about him leaving. We had got an idea of who we wanted for our drummer, as we had heard a few people play and didn't really like any of them. On the night of the leaving party, we went round to Tré's and asked him to come, and he did.
"You two found a replacement drummer?"
"No. everyone around here sucks. You found a replacement band?"
"Nuh uh." Mike decided it was a good time to try and convince him to join Sweet Children, but he started talking again.
"I've been thinking, and can I try drumming for you? Cuz I think I'd really like to be in a band with you two."
"Are you a mind reader?" I couldn't believe he wanted to be in a band with us.
"You won't need to a trial! You have to be the best drummer around." Mike was getting excited.
"I take it this means I'm in?"
"Yeah."
"That's great. Now can we go get drunk?" we reached my house, and went inside where The Clash was already blaring out of speakers, and people were already knocking back beer. We joined in, and when my mom came home from her weekend away she had to pick her way over a load of unconscious bodies.
"Uh, Billie?"
"Yeah?" I didn't want to explain, cuz I'd said they'd be gone by 11:00 Sunday. I looked at the alarm clock in her bedroom on my way down. 2:00. I had some explaining to do.
"They'll be gone by 11:00. Ha! Can you just get this guy out of the toilet, and into the front room?" she never got stressed with me.
"Yeah, sure. We found a new drummer for the band. He was that guy that I told you about, the one we met at the Operation Ivy gig."
"Good. When are you gonna get started again?"
"Dunno. I'll go try waking some people up."
"If you want to..." I started to look around for almost awake people, Mike and Tré. I found them, and tried to wake them up. Tré hit me and called me Dave. Who Dave was, I don't know, but Tré didn't seem like him, judging by how hard he hit me. Mike was awake, and started to kick random people. It woke them up, and by nearly half past they were all out apart from the three of us. I wanted to introduce Tré to my mom. Was that clever?
"You have some strange friends, you know that?"
"Uh huh. I'm sorry about Tré the other day."
"Don't be, it's alright." I was heading out for our first band practice with Tré. I said goodbye, and walked down to the bus stop, to wait for the bus to Berkeley to the Lookout record studio. I got there, and Mike and Tré were already there. I liked Lookout records, nine people strong, and fewer bands. We had released a couple of EP's with them, and then clubbed them together to make an album, 1039/Smoothed out slappy hours.
"Hey guys." They replied the same. Tré played a fill on the drums, and mike played a bass line to match.
"Hey, play that again. It sounds like something. I like it." We carried on for the rest of the day, Tré coming up with a weird song that cracked everyone up. He called it Dominated Love Slave. If we had another album, that was going on it. I had come up with part of a song, and a tune that I liked, and the bass line/drum part that Tré and Mike had. Not bad, I thought as we were on the bus back. If we carried on like this we would have a new album out pretty soon. I reached my stop, and Tré and I got off.
"I'll call you tomorrow."
"Ok, speak to you then." I went up the road to my house. Ollie was in.
"Hi, mom?"
"Through here, in the kitchen. I'm unloading the groceries." I hugged her, and sat down at the table.
"How'd practice go? Is the new drummer any good?"
"Yeah, he's brilliant. Where's the coffee gone?"
"Here. There's a pizza in the fridge for you."
"They say we're doing really well, and we're gonna try and get a record out soon."
"That's great!" We sat and talked for a while. I liked opening up to her. She didn't mind when I flunked everything, and was nearly expelled from school. She didn't mind when I was in for bullying, even though I was provoked to hit a guy that called me a motherless unwanted loser, among other things. She didn't mind when I was arrested. I liked her being so understanding. I guess we just had a close relationship, and I had always been grateful to her for everything.
"This is brilliant! You guys are the best in the world." Laurence Livermore, the guy who ran Lookouts. We had written a load of songs, and they were organising for us to go on sort of mini-tour of America. Tré had got his dad's bookmobile, and we were doing it up, as it was acting like our tour bus.
"Hey, Billie! D'you hear what we were saying to you?" Tré shouted in my ear, breaking my daydream.
"No... why?"
"We're going on tour next week!" Mike burst in.
"Uh, what's that?" I rolled over. Something was in my face. Someone's pants.
"Uhhhhhh, shut up, whore."
"Why?"
"Cuz my head hurts."
"Shouldn't have had all that corona last night then. Should have given up when I started to beat you."
"You didn't beat me. I was gonna beat you anyway."
"Hi guys. We're in Minnesota now. We're gonna do a gig tonight." Mike had arrived from somewhere, and then I saw a Starbucks in his hand.
"Ooh, Tré do you think you can stay sober that long?"
"Piss off... " he said, not very threateningly. Every night, after the gigs we had done he had managed to get drunk within ten minutes of leaving the stage.
That night, we were playing a gig somewhere I was too bored to remember the name of. I was onstage, and we were about halfway through the set, when I looked around the audience. Pierced, tattooed guys and a few girls. None of them were too hot, I thought. Then my eyes fell on a girl on the other side of the room. She was getting drinks at the bar, taking them back to her none hot friends.she had black hair, with a few random dreads, drak eyes and a tattoo on her upper arm. I watched her all night, the way she threw her head back when she laugh, the spark in her eyes as she sung along to the music and i was mesmerised. She was beautiful.
"You two found a replacement drummer?"
"No. everyone around here sucks. You found a replacement band?"
"Nuh uh." Mike decided it was a good time to try and convince him to join Sweet Children, but he started talking again.
"I've been thinking, and can I try drumming for you? Cuz I think I'd really like to be in a band with you two."
"Are you a mind reader?" I couldn't believe he wanted to be in a band with us.
"You won't need to a trial! You have to be the best drummer around." Mike was getting excited.
"I take it this means I'm in?"
"Yeah."
"That's great. Now can we go get drunk?" we reached my house, and went inside where The Clash was already blaring out of speakers, and people were already knocking back beer. We joined in, and when my mom came home from her weekend away she had to pick her way over a load of unconscious bodies.
"Uh, Billie?"
"Yeah?" I didn't want to explain, cuz I'd said they'd be gone by 11:00 Sunday. I looked at the alarm clock in her bedroom on my way down. 2:00. I had some explaining to do.
"They'll be gone by 11:00. Ha! Can you just get this guy out of the toilet, and into the front room?" she never got stressed with me.
"Yeah, sure. We found a new drummer for the band. He was that guy that I told you about, the one we met at the Operation Ivy gig."
"Good. When are you gonna get started again?"
"Dunno. I'll go try waking some people up."
"If you want to..." I started to look around for almost awake people, Mike and Tré. I found them, and tried to wake them up. Tré hit me and called me Dave. Who Dave was, I don't know, but Tré didn't seem like him, judging by how hard he hit me. Mike was awake, and started to kick random people. It woke them up, and by nearly half past they were all out apart from the three of us. I wanted to introduce Tré to my mom. Was that clever?
"You have some strange friends, you know that?"
"Uh huh. I'm sorry about Tré the other day."
"Don't be, it's alright." I was heading out for our first band practice with Tré. I said goodbye, and walked down to the bus stop, to wait for the bus to Berkeley to the Lookout record studio. I got there, and Mike and Tré were already there. I liked Lookout records, nine people strong, and fewer bands. We had released a couple of EP's with them, and then clubbed them together to make an album, 1039/Smoothed out slappy hours.
"Hey guys." They replied the same. Tré played a fill on the drums, and mike played a bass line to match.
"Hey, play that again. It sounds like something. I like it." We carried on for the rest of the day, Tré coming up with a weird song that cracked everyone up. He called it Dominated Love Slave. If we had another album, that was going on it. I had come up with part of a song, and a tune that I liked, and the bass line/drum part that Tré and Mike had. Not bad, I thought as we were on the bus back. If we carried on like this we would have a new album out pretty soon. I reached my stop, and Tré and I got off.
"I'll call you tomorrow."
"Ok, speak to you then." I went up the road to my house. Ollie was in.
"Hi, mom?"
"Through here, in the kitchen. I'm unloading the groceries." I hugged her, and sat down at the table.
"How'd practice go? Is the new drummer any good?"
"Yeah, he's brilliant. Where's the coffee gone?"
"Here. There's a pizza in the fridge for you."
"They say we're doing really well, and we're gonna try and get a record out soon."
"That's great!" We sat and talked for a while. I liked opening up to her. She didn't mind when I flunked everything, and was nearly expelled from school. She didn't mind when I was in for bullying, even though I was provoked to hit a guy that called me a motherless unwanted loser, among other things. She didn't mind when I was arrested. I liked her being so understanding. I guess we just had a close relationship, and I had always been grateful to her for everything.
"This is brilliant! You guys are the best in the world." Laurence Livermore, the guy who ran Lookouts. We had written a load of songs, and they were organising for us to go on sort of mini-tour of America. Tré had got his dad's bookmobile, and we were doing it up, as it was acting like our tour bus.
"Hey, Billie! D'you hear what we were saying to you?" Tré shouted in my ear, breaking my daydream.
"No... why?"
"We're going on tour next week!" Mike burst in.
"Uh, what's that?" I rolled over. Something was in my face. Someone's pants.
"Uhhhhhh, shut up, whore."
"Why?"
"Cuz my head hurts."
"Shouldn't have had all that corona last night then. Should have given up when I started to beat you."
"You didn't beat me. I was gonna beat you anyway."
"Hi guys. We're in Minnesota now. We're gonna do a gig tonight." Mike had arrived from somewhere, and then I saw a Starbucks in his hand.
"Ooh, Tré do you think you can stay sober that long?"
"Piss off... " he said, not very threateningly. Every night, after the gigs we had done he had managed to get drunk within ten minutes of leaving the stage.
That night, we were playing a gig somewhere I was too bored to remember the name of. I was onstage, and we were about halfway through the set, when I looked around the audience. Pierced, tattooed guys and a few girls. None of them were too hot, I thought. Then my eyes fell on a girl on the other side of the room. She was getting drinks at the bar, taking them back to her none hot friends.she had black hair, with a few random dreads, drak eyes and a tattoo on her upper arm. I watched her all night, the way she threw her head back when she laugh, the spark in her eyes as she sung along to the music and i was mesmerised. She was beautiful.
