Chapter 1
Meet The Band
My name is Lana, and I'm a singer . . . in a rock band. But not your ordinary rock band. No, no, no. Certainly not you're ordinary rock band. People thought it was just a normal television show, but they were off. There is an amulet, and whoever ends up with it, ends up seeing ghosts. They have to help them get those ghosts to the after world. And it's a pain in the ass. Sure, we thought we could see Kurt Cobain or Elvis Presely, but were we ever wrong. Say if an old woman died, but her "unfinished" business was to find her cat . . . lucky us, we get to find her cat! And until we don't, she'll follow us around and annoy us.
We never told anyone about this, it wasn't necisarry, and it could ruin our career as musicians . . . not saying we had a record deal or anything. We were just a normal band on the verge of a record deal. Kinda of like those guys in "Dead Last" only, our lives were much more complicated. Same with the ghosts as well. The ghosts that were criminals, well . . . they didn't look very normal. My band, made up with three other guys, making me the only girl . . . it was great! We were all brought together by our sorrows in life, our mistakes and the mistakes we had nothing to do with.
Vaughn, our bassist was really nice, and friendly. You would never guess what his mistake in life was. He was experimenting, never meant any harm. There was an older girl, a party, and drinking. Before Vaughn knew it, he got a call a few weeks later, told that he would soon be a father. Nine months later, the girl died of childbirth (of which is quite rare) and Vaughn was left with a baby girl. The girl is only a few months old, and the band and I take care of her, she's everyone's baby, and we love her to death. Oh, his hair is a real mess, by the way. He has black hair, which is by far messed up. Not once has he ever combed it. He wears black and is totally into his rock n' roll by the looks of it. He only wears t-shirts that say "Red Hot Chili Peppers" "Weezer" "Smashing Pumpkins" well, you get the point.
Keith, he's our other guitarists (besides me). He's pretty stuck up. He doesn't get along with the drummer very much, one likes pop the other likes hip hop I suppose you could say. They both were completely different; one was an "A" student the other "C+" student. Keith, he's just an ordinary guy who tries his best in school. If our rock band doesn't sail off to the bigger sea, then he's most likely going to study at Harvard or Yale. I'll probably be there with him, I'm an "A" student as well. Keith is a dirty blonde; he wears the "rich kid" clothing. From the dull sweaters to the golf type of shoes. His favorite bands are quite strange. He enjoys pop, meaning he listens to the Backstreetboys, *Nsync and the Moffats. We don't think he actually likes those bands, but we have a feeling those are the only cd's his parents will let him buy.
Then there's Jam. Well, that's his nickname, and he refuses to be called anything else. Jam is our drummer, he well "jams" a lot on them. Hense the name. He's a really cool guy, and like I said before, doesn't get along with Keith very well. He's the drummer with the "dumb" type of attitude. He always says "dude" and "whatever" and he's a suffer as well. Anyways, he's a cool guy. A really likeable person. Jam also has wacky hair. Side burns, by the way, which his hair is blue. His favorite drummer is Travis from Blink -182-. He's a HUGE Blink fan, and I mean HUGE! His clothing is normal. Jeans, a black, blue, yellow you know, whatever he finds in his closet type of clothing. So, he dresses pretty normal.
Anyways, I guess I should give you the lowdown on me. I'm the lead singer and lead guitarist. I enjoy long walks on the beach . . . hey! Just joshing with ya! I have to admit, and I'm not proud of it . . . I'm the most popular girl in school, as I am dating the most popular guy. My mistake . . . well, I was a mistake. My parents gave me up and so on. Now I just live in a small town. So small it isn't even on the map! Seriously! Anyways, I'm not happy being popular, but its not like you can just drop it. My band is a "hidden" hobbie. No one knows about us, because we all come from different parts of school. From surffers, to geeks, to "mistakes" . . . well you get the point. We're made of people you would never see hanging out together, and we decided to keep it that way, that is unless we ever got a record deal. I had a feeling a lot of people would find out. My hair, it's black and goes down to my shoulders. It's straight as well, and I just wear normal girl clothing, from skirts to jeans. You would never suspect a girl like me would be in a rock band. Everyone seems to think I listen to Britney Spears, well they're wrong. I listen to "Weezer" "Red Hot Chili Peppers" "Goo Goo Dolls" and so on.
Well, this story begins at school. Just an ordinary day of school. (There were never any ghosts that hung around there. Which was quite a relief). My band and I were looking for a "new band mate" I suppose you could say. None of us knew how to set up all of our equipment, meaning that Ben (my foster father) had to do that everytime we wanted to practice. Well, everytime took a long time.
As I sat at the "cool" table, I looked around for someone who might know how to set-up that type of equptment. In other words, someone who spends their entire life with computers and just plain technology. I knew how to do that stuff; it's just that we needed someone who would only do that, who didn't have a busy scheduel.
After thinking about who might be the perfect fit, I found the perfect fit. His name was Alex and he was the president of the technology club. I saw him with his tray of food looking for a table to sit in. Looked like the jocks had taken his table again for fun. I hated when they did that. He looked quite upset as he saw them; red lettermen jackets and all stuffed into his table. As I heard some insults fly at the kid, I decided to step in.
"Hey guys!" I said, as I walked up to the jocks.
"Hey Lana. Do you think you could get this loser out of here?"
"Sure!"
I put my hand on his shoulder as we both walked out of the cafeteria. He was shivering under my touch, and I couldn't help but smile. As we were out in the hallways, empty might I add, I decided to get to the point.
"You're not gonna tell me off?" he asked, fixing his glasses.
"Of course not. Hey, I didn't know you were english! I figured you were Canadian or American."
"Well there's quite a bit you people don't know about me," he replied.
"I see. Well, there's quite a bit you don't know about me. And I'm willing to let you in on a little secrete. Well, a secrete that needs your help," I said.
"W-what is it?"
"Well, Alex. I have a rock band . . . and we need a technicion to set up our stereos and excetra. So, I was wondering if you'd be willing to be that guy? We'll pay you, if you want to. It's just, I can't keep on having Ben do it for me, because . . . he's not great with technology," I asked him.
"I'D LOVE TO!" he practically shouted.
"Shh! That's great. Do you know where I live-"
"Who doesn't?!"
"O.K, could you come by after school. Say around 3:00?"
"O.K!"
"O.K"
"O.K"
"Well, you have a good lunch, may I suggest the bleachers? You can watch the girls play soccer. And don't think I haven't seen you under the bleachers at cheerleading practice," I winked at him.
Alex blushed as I walked back inside the cafeteria. He was a nice guy, a little out of it, but nice. Well, that day was going by fine perfectly. It was also a Friday, meaning that a lot of kids were ansey and just wanted to get out of school. I was going to go to practice and then sleep over at my friend's house, Sarah. We were going to go camping that weekend, meaning that I had to bring practically everything. Everything but food. That was her job. But you wouldn't believe how much that camping stuff helped us. Oh, you would not believe.
It was finally after school. We all met up at Vaughn's garage; it (thank god) was seperated from his house. We made a lot of noise when we were in there practicing. Every now and then we'd get complaints from neighbours, but then Keith would always work his charm.
Alex arrived a little late. I didn't mind though. Vaughn did. He was quite angry, and I supposed he had something else on his mind, because he wasn't the type of guy to be upset at someone who was ten minutes late.
"If you're going to help us, you mind helping us on time?!" Vaughn shouted.
"I-I'm sorry!"
"Like hell you are!"
"VAUGHN!" we all shouted, that is except Alex.
"What?"
"Just knock it off! So what, he was a little late. It's not like the end of the world."
Vaughn was quite frustrated. He put his bass guitar down, nearly smashing it as he sat down on one of the old beat up couches next to his baby girl. He just looked at her, not holding her or anything. He just watched the girl smile. Something was seriously up.
Jam looked at me, not sure what to do and so did Keith. I knew what they wanted me to do. So, I put my guitar down (gently) and walked over to Vaughn and sat down on the couch next to him. I motioned my head for everyone to leave, and they did.
"Vaughn, whats wrong?" I asked.
"Just . . . nothing."
I was a little scared about what I did, but I took his hand in mine and I held it. His hands were cold, yet they were warm as well. We sat there in silence for a minute or so.
"Vaughn, you know you can tell me anything."
"Nothing is wrong!"
"Then why did you flip out over Alex? And why did you nearly break your guitar?"
"Just because."
"Just because what?"
"They're not going to accept me . . ."
"Who?"
"I got a letter today . . . from the college I applied to-"
"You're a smart guy, Vaughn! I mean, all you have to do is try another college. What are your back ups?"
"It's not that. I applied to over five different colleges. They won't except me because of her."
"But that's rediculous!"
"I know . . ."
All the while, Vaughn didn't even look at me. He had his eyes set directly on his baby girl. I could tell he was wishing that he could go back into the past. That he had never gone to that party.
"It was only a few months ago . . . " I had no idea why I said that.
"I realize that."
"Everyone knows she's your child. Not you're baby sister."
"Who told?"
"No one. We wouldn't betray you like that Vaughn. That would be a horrible thing to do. I mean, you're the only one who knows I'm adopted. We've been friends for so long, we know everything about each other. And just because we hang out with different people in school, does not mean I would dish out your secretes."
"."
"Ok then. I think Jam got us a gig at a party in a few cities over. It's only about an hour drive there."
"Where?"
"Um . . .Tawason."
"Tawason?"
"Yeah. It's a good paying job. $200.00 split four ways."
"When?"
"Umm . . . I was hoping you would be in a good mood today. But it's in an hour . . ."
"An hour?!"
"I'm sorry!"
"Well, then why are we sitting around here? We'll be late."
He was finally back to his normal self. We only had less then an hour to get there, meaning that we had to load everything up as quickly as possible. It was a good thing we had an extra hand there, with Alex and all. He was a sweet guy, always thinking of others. But then again, I wondered if he ever thought about himself?
We had just arrived at the place where we were supposed to do our "gig". It was small and friendly, but there was just one small problem . . . this was a really, really heavy metal club. We sang cover songs of like The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Weezer, The Goo Goo Dolls, The Calling, Shakira, Avril Lavigne, Michelle Branch . . . well you get the point. We didn't sing or play heavy metal.
As we stood up on stage, infront of maybe a hundred spiked, green coloured hair, dog necklaces and so on . . . it was really nerve-racking.
"Umm . . . hi everyone," I said in a sort of whisper.
"This is one of our many first gigs and uh . . . " I was too nervous to go on anymore. It was a good thing Vaughn saw so.
"Hey! Uh, we're called . . . nothing because we don't have a band name," Vaughn tried to get a few laughs out of these people, it did not work,"well we're gonna play a few songs. We hope you like them. Some of the songs we don't even really like, but hey! That's life . . ."
"One! Two! One! Two! Three!" Jam shouted.
Well, we're going to play "Unwanted" by Avril Lavigne, we were just hoping these people would like it. Not saying I like Avril Lavigne, personally . . . she sucks. But, this song was in a way "hard rock" but not too much.
"All I did was start of by shaking your hand That's how it went . . . I had a smile on my face And I sat up striaght, oh yeah"
I had a feeling that they did not like it. From their "boos" and "Get off the stage" sort of gave it away. I also heard "get off the stage, ya pretty face! Where's your yogurt!" O.K normaly I don't take jokes that seriously, but this was personal. Something totally took over me, and I jumped off of the stage and grabbed the little bitch who said that. While I was too busy fighting that bitch, I hardly noticed the bar fight going on around me. The next thing I knew, I was hit on the head with a broken bear bottle . . .
"You kids should be alright."
I woke up to see a doctor and my band mates all in a hospital room. It looked like everyone was pretty banged up. I could tell I had a bandage around my head, as I also felt a killer head ach. Vaughn had a few bandages over his hands, and it looked like he had a few cuts on his face as well. Keith had an enourmous bandage surrounding his arm, it looked like he almost had a cast on it, though it wasn't nearly as thick. As for Jam, he looked all right. He had a few bandages on him as well, just small cuts and bruises, that was all. Basically Vaughn and I were the worst, next to Keith. Alex, he didn't even have a scratch on him.
"Well, you five are free to go. A safe drive," the doctor said, then left.
"What happened?" I asked, sitting up.
"Well, Vaughn got pretty beat up trying to pull that bitch off of you."
"Is the baby o.k?"
"Yeah, she's fine. Alex took care of her, and did and excellent job at it!" Jam said, in his surfer slang tone of voice.
"Good. Who's driving?"
I tossed up the keys, because I knew I could not drive. Alex had caught it, and he was probably in the best condition to do so.
"O.K, so dudes and dudettes, Alex, Keith and I are gonna go wait in the car, Vaughn make sure Lana is fine, she got the worst beating. And a word of advice Lana, don't try and take down a chick who is double your size!" Jam warned.
"Yeah, o.k."
Jam winked at us then left with the others. Vaughn took my hand and helped me up. I was completely sore all over. It felt like a million needles being pushed into me at once. My dad was going to kill me . . .
"Are you sure you're all right?" Vaughn asked again.
"I'm fine!" I said, pushing him away a little.
"O.K then."
I walked over and grabbed my jacket. I looked at my arms, which were pretty cut up. I could see some major swelling and bruises showing up in the morning.
Well it was too late to go camping that night. I had my stuff in the convertible's trunk; it all just merely fit. Considering we weren't going to get back on time, we just pulled over on the side of the road (by the way, there were absolutely no cars driving that night) and just sat in my car. Jam had his truck with all of our instruments right beside of us, but we all decided to lay in my car, and just stare at the stars that night.
"Do you think we'll ever get a record deal?" Jam asked, breaking the silence.
"I hope not," Keith said.
"Why?"
"My parents would kill me. Rock Star or Lawyer? Which one would you're parents pick?" he asked us.
"Neither, my mom wants me to be a model . . . " I told everyone.
"A model?"
"Yeah. Personally, I don't like being pretty . . . not saying that I think of myself that highly, but you get my point."
"I suppose. I know I really want to be a rockstar, get a record deal, live large. I'd be able to take care of my girl."
"No matter what, Vaughn . . . we'll all be there to take care of her. We're friends, secrete friends, but we're friends. That little girl you're holding is the best thing that has ever happened to you, or even us," Keith assured.
No one said anything. After a few switching around, I ended up in the driver's seat resting my head on Vaughn's lap as he sat up. He had his baby in his arms, and I could tell he was listening to her little breaths.
Keith, Jam and Alex sat in the back. Keith lay across both Jam and Alex's laps, tired as heck. My feet, well they were resting on the driver's door as I drifted off to sleep. We were all tired, banged up and just wanted to go home. Little did we know, we weren't going home that night . . .
A/N: Ok, so I just wanna know, is it worth going on? I have a whole . . . well sorta . . . plot going on there. I have a few notes to go around with, if you know what I mean. Please tell me what you think. By the way, Vaughn and Van are two totally different people. In future chapters (if they happen) the band would refer to Vaughn - The Bassist or Van the King. It's also easy to tell the difference because of how the names are spelled, just to let you know. So yeah, its kind of a take off of Dead Last. I fell in love with the show ^^ So, PLEASE REVIEW! I NEED REVIEW! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! K, thanks. Oh by the way, the last part (sitting in the car and stuff) what inspired me to write that was the Red Hot Chili Peppers music video for "Scar Tissue" . . . man I love that song!
-Paper Pieces
My name is Lana, and I'm a singer . . . in a rock band. But not your ordinary rock band. No, no, no. Certainly not you're ordinary rock band. People thought it was just a normal television show, but they were off. There is an amulet, and whoever ends up with it, ends up seeing ghosts. They have to help them get those ghosts to the after world. And it's a pain in the ass. Sure, we thought we could see Kurt Cobain or Elvis Presely, but were we ever wrong. Say if an old woman died, but her "unfinished" business was to find her cat . . . lucky us, we get to find her cat! And until we don't, she'll follow us around and annoy us.
We never told anyone about this, it wasn't necisarry, and it could ruin our career as musicians . . . not saying we had a record deal or anything. We were just a normal band on the verge of a record deal. Kinda of like those guys in "Dead Last" only, our lives were much more complicated. Same with the ghosts as well. The ghosts that were criminals, well . . . they didn't look very normal. My band, made up with three other guys, making me the only girl . . . it was great! We were all brought together by our sorrows in life, our mistakes and the mistakes we had nothing to do with.
Vaughn, our bassist was really nice, and friendly. You would never guess what his mistake in life was. He was experimenting, never meant any harm. There was an older girl, a party, and drinking. Before Vaughn knew it, he got a call a few weeks later, told that he would soon be a father. Nine months later, the girl died of childbirth (of which is quite rare) and Vaughn was left with a baby girl. The girl is only a few months old, and the band and I take care of her, she's everyone's baby, and we love her to death. Oh, his hair is a real mess, by the way. He has black hair, which is by far messed up. Not once has he ever combed it. He wears black and is totally into his rock n' roll by the looks of it. He only wears t-shirts that say "Red Hot Chili Peppers" "Weezer" "Smashing Pumpkins" well, you get the point.
Keith, he's our other guitarists (besides me). He's pretty stuck up. He doesn't get along with the drummer very much, one likes pop the other likes hip hop I suppose you could say. They both were completely different; one was an "A" student the other "C+" student. Keith, he's just an ordinary guy who tries his best in school. If our rock band doesn't sail off to the bigger sea, then he's most likely going to study at Harvard or Yale. I'll probably be there with him, I'm an "A" student as well. Keith is a dirty blonde; he wears the "rich kid" clothing. From the dull sweaters to the golf type of shoes. His favorite bands are quite strange. He enjoys pop, meaning he listens to the Backstreetboys, *Nsync and the Moffats. We don't think he actually likes those bands, but we have a feeling those are the only cd's his parents will let him buy.
Then there's Jam. Well, that's his nickname, and he refuses to be called anything else. Jam is our drummer, he well "jams" a lot on them. Hense the name. He's a really cool guy, and like I said before, doesn't get along with Keith very well. He's the drummer with the "dumb" type of attitude. He always says "dude" and "whatever" and he's a suffer as well. Anyways, he's a cool guy. A really likeable person. Jam also has wacky hair. Side burns, by the way, which his hair is blue. His favorite drummer is Travis from Blink -182-. He's a HUGE Blink fan, and I mean HUGE! His clothing is normal. Jeans, a black, blue, yellow you know, whatever he finds in his closet type of clothing. So, he dresses pretty normal.
Anyways, I guess I should give you the lowdown on me. I'm the lead singer and lead guitarist. I enjoy long walks on the beach . . . hey! Just joshing with ya! I have to admit, and I'm not proud of it . . . I'm the most popular girl in school, as I am dating the most popular guy. My mistake . . . well, I was a mistake. My parents gave me up and so on. Now I just live in a small town. So small it isn't even on the map! Seriously! Anyways, I'm not happy being popular, but its not like you can just drop it. My band is a "hidden" hobbie. No one knows about us, because we all come from different parts of school. From surffers, to geeks, to "mistakes" . . . well you get the point. We're made of people you would never see hanging out together, and we decided to keep it that way, that is unless we ever got a record deal. I had a feeling a lot of people would find out. My hair, it's black and goes down to my shoulders. It's straight as well, and I just wear normal girl clothing, from skirts to jeans. You would never suspect a girl like me would be in a rock band. Everyone seems to think I listen to Britney Spears, well they're wrong. I listen to "Weezer" "Red Hot Chili Peppers" "Goo Goo Dolls" and so on.
Well, this story begins at school. Just an ordinary day of school. (There were never any ghosts that hung around there. Which was quite a relief). My band and I were looking for a "new band mate" I suppose you could say. None of us knew how to set up all of our equipment, meaning that Ben (my foster father) had to do that everytime we wanted to practice. Well, everytime took a long time.
As I sat at the "cool" table, I looked around for someone who might know how to set-up that type of equptment. In other words, someone who spends their entire life with computers and just plain technology. I knew how to do that stuff; it's just that we needed someone who would only do that, who didn't have a busy scheduel.
After thinking about who might be the perfect fit, I found the perfect fit. His name was Alex and he was the president of the technology club. I saw him with his tray of food looking for a table to sit in. Looked like the jocks had taken his table again for fun. I hated when they did that. He looked quite upset as he saw them; red lettermen jackets and all stuffed into his table. As I heard some insults fly at the kid, I decided to step in.
"Hey guys!" I said, as I walked up to the jocks.
"Hey Lana. Do you think you could get this loser out of here?"
"Sure!"
I put my hand on his shoulder as we both walked out of the cafeteria. He was shivering under my touch, and I couldn't help but smile. As we were out in the hallways, empty might I add, I decided to get to the point.
"You're not gonna tell me off?" he asked, fixing his glasses.
"Of course not. Hey, I didn't know you were english! I figured you were Canadian or American."
"Well there's quite a bit you people don't know about me," he replied.
"I see. Well, there's quite a bit you don't know about me. And I'm willing to let you in on a little secrete. Well, a secrete that needs your help," I said.
"W-what is it?"
"Well, Alex. I have a rock band . . . and we need a technicion to set up our stereos and excetra. So, I was wondering if you'd be willing to be that guy? We'll pay you, if you want to. It's just, I can't keep on having Ben do it for me, because . . . he's not great with technology," I asked him.
"I'D LOVE TO!" he practically shouted.
"Shh! That's great. Do you know where I live-"
"Who doesn't?!"
"O.K, could you come by after school. Say around 3:00?"
"O.K!"
"O.K"
"O.K"
"Well, you have a good lunch, may I suggest the bleachers? You can watch the girls play soccer. And don't think I haven't seen you under the bleachers at cheerleading practice," I winked at him.
Alex blushed as I walked back inside the cafeteria. He was a nice guy, a little out of it, but nice. Well, that day was going by fine perfectly. It was also a Friday, meaning that a lot of kids were ansey and just wanted to get out of school. I was going to go to practice and then sleep over at my friend's house, Sarah. We were going to go camping that weekend, meaning that I had to bring practically everything. Everything but food. That was her job. But you wouldn't believe how much that camping stuff helped us. Oh, you would not believe.
It was finally after school. We all met up at Vaughn's garage; it (thank god) was seperated from his house. We made a lot of noise when we were in there practicing. Every now and then we'd get complaints from neighbours, but then Keith would always work his charm.
Alex arrived a little late. I didn't mind though. Vaughn did. He was quite angry, and I supposed he had something else on his mind, because he wasn't the type of guy to be upset at someone who was ten minutes late.
"If you're going to help us, you mind helping us on time?!" Vaughn shouted.
"I-I'm sorry!"
"Like hell you are!"
"VAUGHN!" we all shouted, that is except Alex.
"What?"
"Just knock it off! So what, he was a little late. It's not like the end of the world."
Vaughn was quite frustrated. He put his bass guitar down, nearly smashing it as he sat down on one of the old beat up couches next to his baby girl. He just looked at her, not holding her or anything. He just watched the girl smile. Something was seriously up.
Jam looked at me, not sure what to do and so did Keith. I knew what they wanted me to do. So, I put my guitar down (gently) and walked over to Vaughn and sat down on the couch next to him. I motioned my head for everyone to leave, and they did.
"Vaughn, whats wrong?" I asked.
"Just . . . nothing."
I was a little scared about what I did, but I took his hand in mine and I held it. His hands were cold, yet they were warm as well. We sat there in silence for a minute or so.
"Vaughn, you know you can tell me anything."
"Nothing is wrong!"
"Then why did you flip out over Alex? And why did you nearly break your guitar?"
"Just because."
"Just because what?"
"They're not going to accept me . . ."
"Who?"
"I got a letter today . . . from the college I applied to-"
"You're a smart guy, Vaughn! I mean, all you have to do is try another college. What are your back ups?"
"It's not that. I applied to over five different colleges. They won't except me because of her."
"But that's rediculous!"
"I know . . ."
All the while, Vaughn didn't even look at me. He had his eyes set directly on his baby girl. I could tell he was wishing that he could go back into the past. That he had never gone to that party.
"It was only a few months ago . . . " I had no idea why I said that.
"I realize that."
"Everyone knows she's your child. Not you're baby sister."
"Who told?"
"No one. We wouldn't betray you like that Vaughn. That would be a horrible thing to do. I mean, you're the only one who knows I'm adopted. We've been friends for so long, we know everything about each other. And just because we hang out with different people in school, does not mean I would dish out your secretes."
"."
"Ok then. I think Jam got us a gig at a party in a few cities over. It's only about an hour drive there."
"Where?"
"Um . . .Tawason."
"Tawason?"
"Yeah. It's a good paying job. $200.00 split four ways."
"When?"
"Umm . . . I was hoping you would be in a good mood today. But it's in an hour . . ."
"An hour?!"
"I'm sorry!"
"Well, then why are we sitting around here? We'll be late."
He was finally back to his normal self. We only had less then an hour to get there, meaning that we had to load everything up as quickly as possible. It was a good thing we had an extra hand there, with Alex and all. He was a sweet guy, always thinking of others. But then again, I wondered if he ever thought about himself?
We had just arrived at the place where we were supposed to do our "gig". It was small and friendly, but there was just one small problem . . . this was a really, really heavy metal club. We sang cover songs of like The Red Hot Chili Peppers, Weezer, The Goo Goo Dolls, The Calling, Shakira, Avril Lavigne, Michelle Branch . . . well you get the point. We didn't sing or play heavy metal.
As we stood up on stage, infront of maybe a hundred spiked, green coloured hair, dog necklaces and so on . . . it was really nerve-racking.
"Umm . . . hi everyone," I said in a sort of whisper.
"This is one of our many first gigs and uh . . . " I was too nervous to go on anymore. It was a good thing Vaughn saw so.
"Hey! Uh, we're called . . . nothing because we don't have a band name," Vaughn tried to get a few laughs out of these people, it did not work,"well we're gonna play a few songs. We hope you like them. Some of the songs we don't even really like, but hey! That's life . . ."
"One! Two! One! Two! Three!" Jam shouted.
Well, we're going to play "Unwanted" by Avril Lavigne, we were just hoping these people would like it. Not saying I like Avril Lavigne, personally . . . she sucks. But, this song was in a way "hard rock" but not too much.
"All I did was start of by shaking your hand That's how it went . . . I had a smile on my face And I sat up striaght, oh yeah"
I had a feeling that they did not like it. From their "boos" and "Get off the stage" sort of gave it away. I also heard "get off the stage, ya pretty face! Where's your yogurt!" O.K normaly I don't take jokes that seriously, but this was personal. Something totally took over me, and I jumped off of the stage and grabbed the little bitch who said that. While I was too busy fighting that bitch, I hardly noticed the bar fight going on around me. The next thing I knew, I was hit on the head with a broken bear bottle . . .
"You kids should be alright."
I woke up to see a doctor and my band mates all in a hospital room. It looked like everyone was pretty banged up. I could tell I had a bandage around my head, as I also felt a killer head ach. Vaughn had a few bandages over his hands, and it looked like he had a few cuts on his face as well. Keith had an enourmous bandage surrounding his arm, it looked like he almost had a cast on it, though it wasn't nearly as thick. As for Jam, he looked all right. He had a few bandages on him as well, just small cuts and bruises, that was all. Basically Vaughn and I were the worst, next to Keith. Alex, he didn't even have a scratch on him.
"Well, you five are free to go. A safe drive," the doctor said, then left.
"What happened?" I asked, sitting up.
"Well, Vaughn got pretty beat up trying to pull that bitch off of you."
"Is the baby o.k?"
"Yeah, she's fine. Alex took care of her, and did and excellent job at it!" Jam said, in his surfer slang tone of voice.
"Good. Who's driving?"
I tossed up the keys, because I knew I could not drive. Alex had caught it, and he was probably in the best condition to do so.
"O.K, so dudes and dudettes, Alex, Keith and I are gonna go wait in the car, Vaughn make sure Lana is fine, she got the worst beating. And a word of advice Lana, don't try and take down a chick who is double your size!" Jam warned.
"Yeah, o.k."
Jam winked at us then left with the others. Vaughn took my hand and helped me up. I was completely sore all over. It felt like a million needles being pushed into me at once. My dad was going to kill me . . .
"Are you sure you're all right?" Vaughn asked again.
"I'm fine!" I said, pushing him away a little.
"O.K then."
I walked over and grabbed my jacket. I looked at my arms, which were pretty cut up. I could see some major swelling and bruises showing up in the morning.
Well it was too late to go camping that night. I had my stuff in the convertible's trunk; it all just merely fit. Considering we weren't going to get back on time, we just pulled over on the side of the road (by the way, there were absolutely no cars driving that night) and just sat in my car. Jam had his truck with all of our instruments right beside of us, but we all decided to lay in my car, and just stare at the stars that night.
"Do you think we'll ever get a record deal?" Jam asked, breaking the silence.
"I hope not," Keith said.
"Why?"
"My parents would kill me. Rock Star or Lawyer? Which one would you're parents pick?" he asked us.
"Neither, my mom wants me to be a model . . . " I told everyone.
"A model?"
"Yeah. Personally, I don't like being pretty . . . not saying that I think of myself that highly, but you get my point."
"I suppose. I know I really want to be a rockstar, get a record deal, live large. I'd be able to take care of my girl."
"No matter what, Vaughn . . . we'll all be there to take care of her. We're friends, secrete friends, but we're friends. That little girl you're holding is the best thing that has ever happened to you, or even us," Keith assured.
No one said anything. After a few switching around, I ended up in the driver's seat resting my head on Vaughn's lap as he sat up. He had his baby in his arms, and I could tell he was listening to her little breaths.
Keith, Jam and Alex sat in the back. Keith lay across both Jam and Alex's laps, tired as heck. My feet, well they were resting on the driver's door as I drifted off to sleep. We were all tired, banged up and just wanted to go home. Little did we know, we weren't going home that night . . .
A/N: Ok, so I just wanna know, is it worth going on? I have a whole . . . well sorta . . . plot going on there. I have a few notes to go around with, if you know what I mean. Please tell me what you think. By the way, Vaughn and Van are two totally different people. In future chapters (if they happen) the band would refer to Vaughn - The Bassist or Van the King. It's also easy to tell the difference because of how the names are spelled, just to let you know. So yeah, its kind of a take off of Dead Last. I fell in love with the show ^^ So, PLEASE REVIEW! I NEED REVIEW! REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! K, thanks. Oh by the way, the last part (sitting in the car and stuff) what inspired me to write that was the Red Hot Chili Peppers music video for "Scar Tissue" . . . man I love that song!
-Paper Pieces