What the hell...?, chapter 1
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"I'm sorry you have to go like this," Nick said to me.
"Life goes on. Deal with it," I replied, but it was obvious I didn't want to go.
You see, my entire family was just murdered by this guy, and I was put in an orphanage. One of my friends family was in foster, so I stayed with them. Now I'm getting adopted.
"This isn't the birthday present you really wanted, was it Kay?" my friend Hailey asked.
"Obviously," I said, now getting annoyed." Remember? I wanted a Fender Strat."
Just then, the car pulled up, and my new family got out.
"Holy crap," me and Nick yelped, while my other friends stood there, dumbstruck.
"So, which one of you is Kay?" It was Billie Joe, Adrienne, Joey, and Jakob Armstrong!
"Me," I muttered." Holy crap, this can't be right."
"It is," Adrienne said, smiling." And just call me Adie for short."
"Need help getting your stuff?" Joey and Jakob asked.
"Sure, just let me fin-" I didn't get to finish, because I tripped over my guitar.
"Do you always need to trip over that thing?" Marisa asked, helping me up.
"No," I replied sarcastically, sticking out my tongue." I do it on purpose."
As soon as my stuff was in the car, I hugged all my friends goodbye, but when I got to Nick, I started crying.
"Come on, don't cry," he said. He was trying to hold tears back, too!
"I'm probably gonna miss you most of all, baby," I said hugging him quite tight." Just so you know, I love you."
"I know, I know. I love you, too," Nick said, kissed the top of my head, and brought me to the car. "See you," he said as he closed the door.
Then we drove off and I haven't seen any of them since.
"So," Joey said. "Why were you up for adoption?"
"My family was murdered," I replied. "All 200+ of them."
"Oh."
"I was talking to one of your friends out there, the taller blond?" Billie Joe asked.
"Kelsie, probably," I answered.
"Well, she said you had wanted a Strat. Want to go pick one out? We can go now if you want."
"Holy...," I said, shocked. "Are you serious!?"
"Sure, why not?" he said as we pulled into the parking lot of M. A. E. (I told him about it).
"Hey, peoples!" I hollered as I stepped in the store (we're all on a first name basis, I was there so often).
"Hey Kay!" Andy, one of the guys who worked there said. "Bring any friend-HOLY CRAP! BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG!"
"That's my name, don't wear it out," Billie Joe smirked.
"Andy, stop staring, I think you're scaring Jake, and I'm looking for a Strat."
"What model?" Peter, the manager (I called him Uncle P), asked.
"Don't care, Uncle P, just one that's playable," I said, remembering the time this kid came in and tried to sell them one that wasn't playable.
"Got it. MIKE! FIND KAY A STRAT!" Peter hollered towards the back. "So, what's the story behind these four?"
"We adopted her," Joey and Jake said.
"Really now?" Pete laughed. "Well, I saw your story on CBS. Most of the local stations have at least mentioned you. Speaking of which..." He motioned us to come to the back room. "There you are now."
And right there on the screen was a picture of me with my new family, and a stetch of (supposedly) the guy who killed my biological family, with the headline 'Local Kay H. Adopted By The Armstrong family'.
Adie and Billie Joe laughed. "How did they find out so fast, Dad?" Jake asked.
"No clue," he answered.
"Back, Pete!" Mike yelled. "It's a custom made just for the shop, so take care of it, O. K., Kay?"
"You know I will, Mike," I said eagerly, and tore the box and wrapping stuff off. "Awesome! Nice choice."
"Thank you, now I suggest you get going before the press finds out you're here," Mike said, and he and Pete walked out to the car. "Come visit us when you're famous, alrighty, Kay?" Mike asked. Andy was standing at the door, dumbstruck.
"I'll try," I said. "I mean, dude, this HAS been my home for 14 years. I'll be back eventually."
After that, we got in the car, me hugging my new guitar, and started driving.
"Life goes on. Deal with it," I replied, but it was obvious I didn't want to go.
You see, my entire family was just murdered by this guy, and I was put in an orphanage. One of my friends family was in foster, so I stayed with them. Now I'm getting adopted.
"This isn't the birthday present you really wanted, was it Kay?" my friend Hailey asked.
"Obviously," I said, now getting annoyed." Remember? I wanted a Fender Strat."
Just then, the car pulled up, and my new family got out.
"Holy crap," me and Nick yelped, while my other friends stood there, dumbstruck.
"So, which one of you is Kay?" It was Billie Joe, Adrienne, Joey, and Jakob Armstrong!
"Me," I muttered." Holy crap, this can't be right."
"It is," Adrienne said, smiling." And just call me Adie for short."
"Need help getting your stuff?" Joey and Jakob asked.
"Sure, just let me fin-" I didn't get to finish, because I tripped over my guitar.
"Do you always need to trip over that thing?" Marisa asked, helping me up.
"No," I replied sarcastically, sticking out my tongue." I do it on purpose."
As soon as my stuff was in the car, I hugged all my friends goodbye, but when I got to Nick, I started crying.
"Come on, don't cry," he said. He was trying to hold tears back, too!
"I'm probably gonna miss you most of all, baby," I said hugging him quite tight." Just so you know, I love you."
"I know, I know. I love you, too," Nick said, kissed the top of my head, and brought me to the car. "See you," he said as he closed the door.
Then we drove off and I haven't seen any of them since.
"So," Joey said. "Why were you up for adoption?"
"My family was murdered," I replied. "All 200+ of them."
"Oh."
"I was talking to one of your friends out there, the taller blond?" Billie Joe asked.
"Kelsie, probably," I answered.
"Well, she said you had wanted a Strat. Want to go pick one out? We can go now if you want."
"Holy...," I said, shocked. "Are you serious!?"
"Sure, why not?" he said as we pulled into the parking lot of M. A. E. (I told him about it).
"Hey, peoples!" I hollered as I stepped in the store (we're all on a first name basis, I was there so often).
"Hey Kay!" Andy, one of the guys who worked there said. "Bring any friend-HOLY CRAP! BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG!"
"That's my name, don't wear it out," Billie Joe smirked.
"Andy, stop staring, I think you're scaring Jake, and I'm looking for a Strat."
"What model?" Peter, the manager (I called him Uncle P), asked.
"Don't care, Uncle P, just one that's playable," I said, remembering the time this kid came in and tried to sell them one that wasn't playable.
"Got it. MIKE! FIND KAY A STRAT!" Peter hollered towards the back. "So, what's the story behind these four?"
"We adopted her," Joey and Jake said.
"Really now?" Pete laughed. "Well, I saw your story on CBS. Most of the local stations have at least mentioned you. Speaking of which..." He motioned us to come to the back room. "There you are now."
And right there on the screen was a picture of me with my new family, and a stetch of (supposedly) the guy who killed my biological family, with the headline 'Local Kay H. Adopted By The Armstrong family'.
Adie and Billie Joe laughed. "How did they find out so fast, Dad?" Jake asked.
"No clue," he answered.
"Back, Pete!" Mike yelled. "It's a custom made just for the shop, so take care of it, O. K., Kay?"
"You know I will, Mike," I said eagerly, and tore the box and wrapping stuff off. "Awesome! Nice choice."
"Thank you, now I suggest you get going before the press finds out you're here," Mike said, and he and Pete walked out to the car. "Come visit us when you're famous, alrighty, Kay?" Mike asked. Andy was standing at the door, dumbstruck.
"I'll try," I said. "I mean, dude, this HAS been my home for 14 years. I'll be back eventually."
After that, we got in the car, me hugging my new guitar, and started driving.
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