Authors Note: So this is just a little idea I had that I wanted to write out. It will be updated once every week, and I'm open to reviews and criticism! Thank You so much for taking the time to read this stupid lil' story I have, and I really do hope you'll enjoy it. You're Great! : )
Chapter 1
Daylights saving time made me anxious as hell. All sense of time was just snatched away and caused me to take a tumble into a deep pit of confusion. I would crawl out, bit by bit, nail by nail. But whenever I reached the mouth of the pit, the time would switch again, and I'd go plummeting back down and crash land. It didn't make a lick of sense; time should always stay the same. Time gave a sense of existence and it was comfortable. Time had big balls to tear that safety net away from me throughout the year. At least it was consistent with the months it would happen in. All thanks to the position and function of the Earth to the Sun.
Oh God. The only thing keeping me on this planet is gravity. The theory, theory, of gravity! What if it went out? I didn't want to end up on Mars, or any other planet for that fact. Earth was damn hard enough to live on. Martians. I did not want to find out if they were real or not. Cause if they were, what type would they be? Nice, mean, eat your heart, pry your chest open, laugh as they suck out eyeballs from the still living Earthling? Oh Jesus, oh GOD!
"Tweek come on. Don't just stare out of the window all night. Instead of thinking to your reflection, why not tell me what's on your mind?"
I jerked against the seat belt when Bebe stole me away from my panicked thoughts. I turned slightly so that I could see her out of the corner of my eye. For the most part she kept her view out on the road, but allowed her eyes to take a concerned glance at me.
"I just...Bebe, I just hate the fact that t-the sun is almost gone! It got dark a-at freaking six. Jesus, it looks like it's nine o'clock!" I pushed the back of my head against the passenger seat's head rest and let it roll from side to side as I tried to push the fact that it was only seven in my mind. We still had plenty of time to get to the show.
A show that I wasn't even aware of until yesterday. I was outside at the park with a nice cup of coffee. Warm between my hands, and warm all the way down to my stomach. A wonderful sweetness allowed by the milk, sugar, and a good helping of vanilla creamer. Bebe ran by and saw me on the swings. She must have been running specifically to find me because she back peddled hard when she noticed me and had to wave her arms around a bit to get balance back as she spun to run towards me. I had, in my always calm composure, jumped up from the swing and tried to move back but the swing flung back and caught me right behind the knees. I tilted backwards and could only think of the sweet sustenance in my hand, but Bebe had caught up and grabbed under my arm and avoided a horrible coffee catastrophe.
Once we were both on the swings she began her ramble of her perfect idea. She wanted to go on a two hour car drive away to a show with an obscure band. She wanted to do all of this and wanted me to tag along. Who would ever want that? I hated crowds, and a long car ride would mean awkward silences and conversations that could be our last. As more and more minutes tic onto a car ride the possibility of a horrible accident increases! The blare of horns, screech of tires, burnt rubber, crunched metal, airbags, bruises, cuts, blood, spilled guts, detached limbs, DEATH! Why would anyone with decent sense want to risk any of that in order to go to some show? Especially to a show with an unknown band, in an unfamiliar location. Goldfish Bowl Syndrome didn't sound like a normal band either. Madness, it was utter madness!
I tried to reason with the blonde why it would be a regrettable mistake to bring me along with her, but she said that was 'nonsense'. She mentioned multiple times that I needed to live a little and stretch my arms out past the boundaries that South Park had set for me. But why would I want to leave what I was comfortable with? South Park was what I knew; what I breathed. I didn't want to get a feel for anywhere else. What if I ended up liking another place? I might want to leave South Park and that was scary as hell.
Unfortunately for me I loved Bebe. She had been there for me throughout these few years of our companionship, and she even broke away from her normal crowd because she chose to be with me when they didn't. This girl freaking wanted to be with a fuck up like me. I didn't know why and I would never ask her. Being ignorant to her reasons was just fine with me, I just liked that she was here.
So, she told me that I was the only person she wanted to go along with, and if I didn't accompany her then she would just go alone. She commented that if she went alone she wouldn't have any protection; not that I was good protection anyway, but she knew that I wouldn't sit back with the possibility of her getting murdered up in the air. I begrudgingly agreed to go along with her, and she made sure to show her appreciation by letting out a squeal and kissed me on each of my cheeks.
That was the story of how I was stuck in Bebe's car, as Red Hot Chili Peppers played out through the speakers and I wished I could lasso the sun and put it back in its rightful place. All I wanted was to be back home, where I knew everything and everyone. I could walk through that entire town with my eyes closed and know exactly where I was. Not that I would, I could easily be attacked and mugged, then stabbed and killed. Jesus.
There was the chance that even if I didn't like Bebe, I bet I would have still came along. She knew how to draw in people like me; people that were severely messed up in the head apparently. She had a beautiful uniqueness to her that rose off of her like steam. You'd have to look hard to see the steam though. She looked like every other girl in South Park. Long hair, a cute smile, pale skin. She also had a natural beauty to her that she never tried to over show by use of excessive makeup or product. Her hair was always some form of curly, and the blonde was a dark shade and complemented her skin well. Small freckles from the sun splattered her cheeks, and her eyes were a deep brown. Clothing options for her were plain; like tonight it was a middle thigh length black skirt that was kind of loose around her legs, black tights, ankle boots, and her signature red coat. Her actions were what pulled her from the crowd, how she moved and what she did with her words. She looked like many girls, but there was only one that I wanted to spend my time with.
"Bebe?"
"What's up Tweekers?" She turned down Knock Me Down.
"I know you like obscure bands, but why, Jesus Bebe, why two hours away? I'm sure there could have been a weird band playing c-closer to South Park."
She let out a short curt laugh and shook her head.
"You know just as well as I do that there is no way in holy hell that would happen Tweeks. You gotta go at least an hour away to get to something, and that's usually just a bar or strip club. From South Park you have to explore to get to the juicy stuff of this world. Anyway, I like games of chance-"
"Of course you do..." I mumbled under my breath, and received a heavy lidded look in response.
"Yes, I do, you ass. I was looking up events near South Park; as near as you can get that is. And it, I don't know, this band just stuck out to me. Who knows, we might just be walking in on the next...uhm...Red Hot Chili Peppers!" She motioned towards the radio and gave a few bops of her head to the music to make her point.
"They're going to be talking to audience members afterwards too, and they will have CDs for sale as well. I think it's worthwhile to check them out! I love the name Goldfish Bowl Syndrome too, it speaks about South Park in a way doncha' think?"
"What if they're shit? We would have wasted a bunch of time!" I threw my arms up and then let my hands fall down my face with a loud groan.
"Well if they really are shit, as you so politely said, then I will make it up to you and we can go to a Denny's."
I perked up at that thought, and started to fiddle with the buttons on my shirt.
"I do enjoy people w-watching, especially late night Denny's people watching."
"I know you do Tweeks! Exactly why we'll probably go to one if they are shit or if they are the shit!"
I smiled and felt some of the tension that had been building in me leave my chest. She really was trying her best to make this worthwhile for me, and she wouldn't force me if she didn't think that something good would come out of one of her escapades.
"Okay. I guess I'm okay with going to the Goldfish show..."
She reached over and ruffled my hair that was a wild mess already.
"I knew you'd whore out for a chance to go to a Denny's."
I felt heat rise to my cheeks and I smacked her in the arm with a quick outburst of 'HEY!' She just laughed at me and let out a few sorrys that were in no way sincere.
"This is going to be awesome Tweekers. Believe me."
I doubted it, but only 99%.
I had to give it to the Goldfish. The venue was...well it was cute. While it was small, it had an appealing nature with that small simplicity. It was separated from the main road by a sidewalk, and an iron wrought fence that was placed along the front of the outside patio where the band would be playing. Flowers surrounded the place, along the fence, on the tables, pots of flowers were here and there and gave the air a hint of freshness. Speaking of the smell, fresh baked bread and coffee seemed like it was pumped out of the cafe every time the door would open. Small strings of lights were woven along the fence, and hung along the back wall where the instruments and sound equipment were placed. Candles were lit on each of the tables and the street lamps along the sidewalk added even more light. It wasn't overbearing and it didn't strain the eye by being too dark or too bright. It was quite nice.
Bebe and I took our place at a back table that had complimentary bread and water placed after we had gotten settled into our seats. The only downside to sitting outside in November at eight thirty was that it was quite chilly. I knew that my cheeks and nose were already covered in a bright red.
I could feel something on the side of my face. A little tingle, and I knew that Bebe was staring at me as she awaited my opinion of the place.
"Yes."
"Yes what Tweeks?"
"Yes this is pretty nice. I like places like this."
She pumped the air with both fists and let out a loud 'SUCCESS!' I sunk my face into my hands, but she pulled them away in order to give me a small peck on the nose.
"I'm glad you like it Tweekers."
She let go of my hands and started to take a look around, and it was easy to see everything because only a few people had arrived as early as we did. Even though it was only thirty minutes early.
"I really like how there isn't a raised stage. It's like a bunch of friends are gathered to listen to music, not a bunch of strangers. It doesn't feel at all like we're out of place here."
I could understand what she meant. Unfortunately I always felt out of place no matter where I was. Even South Park, but I could fit in snug enough where it didn't feel as awkward. Bebe was right about there not being a raised stage though. There was just a small area that was taped off to show where the equipment would go and where the band would play. Everything fit where it was supposed to. Like a puzzle where you didn't have to body slam the pieces into place.
As nine crept closer and closer people started to take their own place in the puzzle, and I started to get fidgety. I was already on my third cup of coffee. With more people the chance that one of them could be a kidnapper, rapist, or murderer increased exponentially. Bits of napkin littered the table, and I was almost finished with my first napkin. Bebe had been buttering another piece of bread, but when she saw me go for another napkin she put down her bread and sandwiched one of my hands with hers. She gave it a quick squeeze.
"How about we get a head start and play people watching while we wait?" Before I could answer she motioned with her head over to a couple about three tables away from us.
"So what's the story of the love birds?" I looked over and saw two tall almost model like people that were in their early twenties; legs hooked, arms tangled, and so close I was sure they must have been counting pores.
"Oh Jesus. It's a beautiful story. He was addicted to licking post stamps. Couldn't stop for the life of him. He never mailed anything, just piled up the licked s-stamps wherever he could find a clear spot. The mailman even took the cat once when it got outside, thought it was a package. He was alone with his stamps, his tongue perpetually paper cut. The only sustenance he had were eggs and flat Mountain Dew. The red kind. Who would have guessed that he would venture outside one day for the f-first time in years, and see a woman slip a stamp out of her pocket and lick it quickly before shoving it back in. She was a closet stamp licker. He invited her inside, and behold, they were stamp lickers, but damn it, they were in it together!" I made sure to wipe away an invisible tear from my cheek, and Bebe had a tight hold on her bottom lip with her teeth. She tried to contain herself, but within a few moments she shook her head and let out a couple of laughs.
"Tweeks. You never fail to disappoint me. I love you, you freak."
"Love you too." I was about to pick people out of the small crowd for her to pick apart with her imagination, but a woman with short cropped blue hair and sunglasses, for some reason, sauntered up to the mic. She tapped it a couple of times until the taps echoed out. With a couple of 'testing, test, test' her mouth broke into a wide grin.
"Hello! And welcome to the Brick House! We hope that you are having a good time so far, and we only hope that we can make it better! So let me go on and get the bad rule part out of the way. Cause though I'd much rather say screw rules, my boss wouldn't appreciate that. So, taped off areas are just for staff and performers. Please do not cross it. If you don't think you're allowed, then you're probably right. Feel free to dance and groove along to the music, but please be mindful of the other patrons! Other than that, drink, eat, be merry, and listen to some kick ass music that we have for you guys! First up we have a lovely, lovely lady who is going to get things started with some acoustic work. So here is the lady herself, Naomii Rivers!"
I strained my neck in order to look past a few people to fully see the first performer. I saw a small petite woman with long black hair that was parted in the middle. She had a guitar with her, and looked about as nervous as I was all the time. She took her place on the stool and shouldered the strap to the instrument. She smiled and tested to see how loud she had to speak into the microphone.
"Hey, Hey guys. I wanted to say thank you for taking your time to join us here tonight! Myself, along with Goldfish Bowl Syndrome-" A couple of cheers sounded from the crowd. "Aha, yes, glad to see some fans. So I'll go on and start with a song that I call, "Pine Tree Creatures"."
She took in a deep breath, and I could tell that she was not used to being on stage. Or in front of people at all. Kudos to her though, I would have already passed out in a twitchy panic.
She pushed a few strands of hair that had fallen behind her ear and then began to pluck at the strings. It was a smooth sound, and she added to the progression of the song by tapping and hitting the body of the guitar as she played.
"Ah, she is a percussion guitarist." Bebe leaned in and whispered. While Bebe didn't play any instruments she loved them, especially strings.
So far the girl was absorbed in her guitar. I don't actually think that she knew the crowd was around her any more. There weren't any lyrics to the song, but she played and pushed out her emotions and thoughts with the vibrations. It was actually very beautiful. While there were a couple of off key sounds, nothing was taken away from the smooth transitions that she provided as her hands worked the guitar. Where there had been small murmurs when she first walked out, they had faded to the occasional 'tink' of ice in a glass, or someone moving their position in a chair.
Bebe squeezed my hand and didn't take her eyes away from the girl, she was enjoying the hell out of this. I didn't blame her though. Naomii Rivers was good. Her nails hit the strings to really catch the audience. It was a mixture of small minute sounds and then a hard strum that shook the guitar and pulled us back into the song. It sounded like a fight between two forces. She increased the tempo of the song for a few seconds that seemed to last forever, but then fell back into the normal rhythm that she had before. It slowed down more, and then stopped. The song was over, but no one moved, no one made a sound. She looked mortified for a split second, but then Bebe jumped up and clapped with all the strength she had in her arms. Everyone else joined her, though only a few others stood up to applaud. That didn't matter to her, she absorbed those smiles and the praise to let out a small laugh and tilted her head down. But she was quick to express her thanks into the microphone.
It was good to see someone with so much of a future ahead of them, and I wished suddenly that I had the same type optimism that I was sure she had at this very moment. I desperately hoped that it didn't get snatched away from her.
She played a few more songs that were just as impressive as her first, and while her nervousness and inexperience did show slightly it didn't matter. She put out enough confidence while she played that it didn't matter. After she bowed a couple of times the announcer came back out and made multiple comments about how wonderful the guitarist was, and then helped her to go into a back room. Once she came back out she grasped the microphone and put on another crowd pleaser of a smile.
"Okay now, these guys have played here a couple times, so I know some of you have had the pleasure!" Some whoops responded as a conformation.
"As I thought! Now here they are from Colorado, in Colorado, the one, the only, Goldfish Bowl Syndrome!"
Bebe let out an ear shattering holler, and a couple of whistles. There wasn't a big crowd so it made us really obvious, and I ducked my head down when a few people looked over at us. She didn't even know this band, and yet she was acting like she was the biggest groupie ever.
"Bebe, I think you should maybe b-be a bit quieter p-people are star-"
"Good to be at the Brick House again guys. I knew you wouldn't let us stay away for too long!"
Bebe quickly shut up and, and my chair screeched loudly as I stood up to see who just spoke. I knew the voice, but it couldn't be; that voice wasn't real anymore, I had just imagined it all my childhood. It wasn't real, this wasn't real, and what I was seeing just was not real.
"Holy shit Tweeks..."
The lead singer's eyes scanned the crowd and I sank back to my seat with a heavy plop. My fingers tore at the back of my head and my forehead made hard contact with the cold surface of the table. My stomach started a dance off with my heart, and nausea coated my throat.
"Jesus fuck...Bebe..." I looked up at her, and willed myself not to scream out.
"Did you k-know about t-this?"
"Damn Tweek." She took my face in both of her hands and brought our foreheads together.
"I really had no idea. No idea at all. I would never put you through this. I'm not a sadistic bastard. God damn Tweekers, I am so sorry. We can go if you want. We'll leave right now. Do whatever you want sweetie."
A small laugh escaped my throat, and I was shocked that it wasn't as closed up as it felt. I felt more like it should have been a sob, but all I could do was let out small laughs. I wanted to leave. I wanted Bebe to lead me to her car, and just let me have the rest of the night alone. I was frozen. I couldn't escape him.
Craig Tucker.
Craig Tucker was on a stage, with a guitar strapped to his body. His two best friends were beside and behind him; Token Black on bass, and Clyde Donovan on drums. Craig looked so fucking right being in a band, it suited him so well. He was the type of guy that people would always look on, but never get close enough to be his equal. Craig Tucker drew in constant fans and followers that would never be close enough to touch him.
The lights haloed around his coal black hair that was choppy but long enough to just touch his shoulders, and he played with different smiles as he spoke into the mic. Some would be small hints of a smile, or a twitch of a smirk, a toothy grin, and he would top it off with a small bottom lip bite.
"Tweeks?"
She had such concern in her voice, and I was tempted to dig my fingers into her back and cry. A good cry. A snot dripping, constant open mouth, wail of a good cry. Just like I had done two years before. Why did such a torturous chance event have to happen to me? It was as if God had played a game of dice with my sanity on the line, and lost something terrible.
"So without further adue, I guess we should start playing some music! I'ma right?" Cheers sounded, and I wanted to scream out. These people should have felt what I felt. They should clutch their chair with their throats burnt from not being able to scream and cry. They should not be happy about seeing Craig fucking Tucker. But, God Damn, in a sense; I was overjoyed. Here he was in the flesh. If I looked up from where I hid my head I would be able to see him. If I wanted I could just walk up and touch him. Damn it; after the show I could talk to him if I was stupid enough to, confront the stupid...
If my legs weren't nailed to the chair I thought that I would probably lose control and barge right up to him and punch him. Square in the jaw. I never liked violence, but Craig put a fire in me unlike any other, and when I saw him it made my blood into gasoline.
The sound from an electric guitar broke through my thoughts and my eyes were once again on him. This time I couldn't look away. He was so much taller than he was before. He must have hit a growth spurt, because he was all legs and his hands, mainly his fingers, were long and moved up and down the neck of the guitar with grace I never knew the ruffin had. The drums joined the guitar and bass, and I knew that singing would come next. I knew that Token had a beautiful voice, and he could have been the actual lead singer. But I wanted Craig to sing. I didn't know why I was such a masochist, but I didn't want to stop being able to hear his voice.
"The dreams created of hope and imagination
Wallowed slowly into self-gratification.
Jaded jeans were all you wore,
Hand me downs from past generations."
It had such a bite. Craig's voice was deep, with a slight gravel tone, but still smooth enough to go well with the melody. His lips would occasionally brush the mic as he sang, and his face scrunched and his eyes closed when he would hit a certain note. It made me sick, and I wanted to go home. However, I couldn't help but want to sit through the torture.
"Bebe...a-all I want to do is talk to him. How bad I-is t-hat..."
She reached out with her hand and rubbed the pad of her thumb over my cheek, and fuck Craig for the song they played that fit so well with my mood.
"Are you sure you want to stay here?" She wasn't going to make the decision for me.
"Yes. I….Jesus Bebe, what if I never see him again. What if this is a sign. Or maybe I'm just crazy and want this torture for some dumbass reason." I dug my nails into my jeans and wished desperately that I could draw blood from my thighs. I wanted to pull the rock that was settled in my stomach. I wanted to push it out through my bloodstream or vomit it out.
"This is such a shit situation Tweeks. If he wants to talk to you, what do you plan on doing hun? We could leave now and he wouldn't even know."
I let my head rest on her shoulder, and I closed my eyes.
"Bebe...you know for a fact that if he wanted to talk to me; I'd be right there in his pocket again."
"Don't put your two cents in today,
They'll say they needed a dollar by yesterday.
Everything out,
Nothing back in,
Cheating in life is my favorite sin."
Post Authors Note: Craig is highly inspired by the looks of the lead singer of Red Hot Chili Peppers, hence their mention in the story multiple times. I got this idea when I saw the video for 'Can't Stop'. Also if you want to know what Naomii Rivers' music sounded like her inspiration was from a gentleman named Trevor Gordon Hall, he's got multiple videos on Youtube and they're all great. Thank You again, and the next chapter will be out next week! : )
