I suppose you could say I was a complete and utter moron. But that didn't matter, not now. For this was far too important, too great of an opportunity to miss. They say that people like me only get one chance in life, and frankly, I think this is it. Time to rock n' roll, Earth!
Stepping onto the stage, I felt their screams. Loud, proud, and intoxicating. This rush, this was like nothing I'd ever felt before. Oh, it tasted so good. I almost pulled out my tongue, to see if there was anything tangible, but held myself. There would be time for that after the show, preferably with another human being.
Spinning the drum sticks in my hand, I gave the drum one firm smack.
"New York, are you ready to ROCK?" I shouted into the microphone.
"YES!" They screamed back, their voices sending me into a deeper high.
Taking a deep breath, I exhaled loudly. This was it. Any second now, I would receive the signal to begin the beat, and we would be legendary. One song is all it takes, one sweet, sweet, memorable song.
Pulling my arms out, I prepared myself for smacking them down on the drum set. But the room suddenly got quieter. And there was a strange buzz in my ear. Not the decent kind, either.
"Rodrick! Wake up, mom's gonna kill the both of us if you're not dressed in three minutes."
How'd I get here? I thought as I opened my eyes to see my ass of a brother, Greg, jumping on the edge of my bed.
"You freaking turd!" I shouted, grabbing my pillow and throwing it at him. "Why'd you decide to wake me up now, HUH? I was just getting to the good part!"
"Good part of what? Unless you're dreaming about a chick, I can't think of another dream with a good part that your sick mind could come up with," he replied, a smirk on his face.
"Yeah, you think so? Come here, you little shit!" I said, lunging forward and attempting to grab at his ankles.
Either he was becoming more coordinated, or I was still too disoriented because he managed to slip right past me and out the room, completing his goal of waking me up and exiting safely.
"That jerk," I mumbled, wiping my eyelids.
How this always managed to happen, I would never understand. This wasn't my first encounter with such a dream. Loded Diper's first musical performance. Opening up for some big city rock band that usually changed, depending on what I fell asleep listening to.
It always ended the same way, too.
Sighing, I rolled out of bed and reached for a dark grey T-shirt. Slipping it on, I pulled on a pair of skinny jeans, slid into my Chuck Taylors, and called it a day. I'd have to shower when I returned from school, for time was running out. Any moment mom would be in here, running her mouth a thousand words per minute.
I used the bathroom before heading downstairs to grab a bite to eat. Stealing a piece of toast off the table, I stuffed it into my mouth, dry, and proceeded to chug down a glass of milk.
I head the 'tsk tsk' sounds before seeing her face.
"Rodrick Heffley, how many times do I have to beg you to go to bed early before you decide to listen to me? See, this is what we all have to go through every morning because you can't turn off your damn iPod before 1 o'clock!" She shouted, her arms busy with Manny.
"Don't swear in front of the children, ma," I replied suavely, using her own words against her.
The moment of surprise on her face allowed me to escape out of the side door and into the garage. Opening the door of the infamous white van, I entered, sliding the key into the ignition.
I was just about to turn on the radio when the side door slammed open, showcasing Greg with our mother behind him. Or rather, our mother' s angry expression.
"Don't think you'll be able to get off so easily, Rodrick. You still have to take Greg to school, and on top of that, you'll have to pick him up and drop him off at Rowley's for sass mouthing me. Now, whatever little plans you and your band mates have to today should be cancelled, because they suddenly lost their ride," she said, amusement in her voice.
I swear, I never believed that bullshit that says parents don't enjoy punishing their children. Mom liked to take it to a whole other level each time. And trust me, we've raced the field a few times.
"Fine," I answered, thought I had no intention of listening. I'd promise to stay out of Greg's way for a week if he promised not to tell mom I made him walk to Chunky Cheese's house on his own.
I couldn't exactly cancel on my band mates. Not tonight.
"Get in, then, Gregory," I called out sweetly, flashing him a smile for my mother's benefit. I could almost feel her bones relax as she shut the door behind her.
Slowly, Greg approached the car. He made his way to the passenger seat, opened the door, and slid inside quietly. Not a peep out of him. It wasn't a surprise why.
My car. My rules.
"Listen here, you little shit," I started, flipping the radio on. Sum 41's 'In Too Deep' began to blast through the speakers as I pulled out of the garage and into the street. "I'm not going to bug you for a week, one whole week, if you promise not to tell mom that I didn't drop you off at Rowley's today."
"One week? You think that's worth my silence? One week? Mom would banish you to the Seventh Level of Hell if she could. She's wasn't in a good mood to start with this morning, and you only made it worst," he replied, kicking his feet up on my dashboard.
"Hey, hey, hey! Take your feet off the board, chump! This van cost me a fortune!" I yelled, reaching over and swatting his feet off.
"Hands on the wheel, Rodrick! How can I leave you alone, when you'd die without my instruction?" He grinned at me. Oh, he was abusing the fact that I needed him today. "And anyways, since I have your fate in my hands, I think I have the right to place my feet in your face if I please." He only asserted my previous thoughts.
"Fine, man, whatever you want. You can walk all over my face if it floats your boat. But you, under no circumstances, can rat me out to mom, okay? Tonight's a big night for me," I told him, relaxing into my seat with both hands placed firmly on the wheel.
"Is it really? What's up?" He asked, switching from asshole to curious brother.
I knew I shouldn't tell him, but I was becoming desperate. Desperate for someone to care about my music. If Greg wanted to know, maybe I should stop pushing him away. He did agree to cover me up, anyways.
"Well, tonight might be Loded Diper's big break," I said, gazing over to catch his expression. He seemed interested, but no longer heavily.
Must have not been the first time I said this sentence.
"Great for you, Rodrick. Kick some butt!" He said, reaching over and clamping me on the shoulder.
I weakly smiled back at him, deciding not to psychoanalyze him too much over his lack of pure interest. He seemed genuinely happy, I suppose.
"Thanks, bro," I said, stopping in front of his school.
"Ditto, man, thanks for the ride," Greg answered, opening the door, grabbing his bag, and exiting.
"See you later!" I yelled before starting the car up again.
He ate it right of out my hand. Now if he did manage to screw up and rat on me, I could guilt him again into doing something for my benefit. We must always think ahead, my friends, and act accordingly.