A punk band in Paris

Everything in the capital of the country of love seemed to be greyer than it was deemed normal for such a cultural place; the people stalking the streets could only be described as…well, bored I suppose? In any case, the city felt very monotone at this moment in time. At least, that was my first impression as soon as I stepped off the plane that brought me here from my beloved home back in England, along with my three brothers who all seemed to share my interpretation of the area.

I suppose I should introduce myself, my name is Arthur Kirkland, I am the lead guitarist in a close knit band of brothers from all separate countries of the united kingdom, and I happen to be in France for one particular purpose; music. Mine and my brothers' lives are governed to bring sound into places like this, ones that feel like they have lost their liveliness and are slowly being sucked into an empty black hole. We are one punk rock band that don't just stand on stages and perform. We move around the city, mingle with the civilians, bring colour back to their bodies, evade the cops as we stir up unforgettable music rebellion in town after town after town. It's in our blood, and nothing will ever change that.

My guitar case felt heavy on my shoulder as me and my older brothers paced through the terminal. The four of us scanned our surroundings, paying quick glances to the few civilians who dared to gawk at us, equipped with various musical instrument cases, cables, an amp (courtesy of our strongest brother Alan), as well as individual suitcases as if we were a noticeable hole in their line of vision and they couldn't help but try to ignore, but felt themselves be sucked into what was presented to them in plain sight. Well, it's not like it matters anyway, and the less going on at the moment the better, I thought to myself as we made our way out of the dull building that was the Charles de gaulle airport and began to make a move.

The eldest of us all, Alan, led the way first. He happened to be the drummer of the group. He had spent most of his life in Scotland before he actually came to live with us three years ago after we had our fist gig; flaunting his innate ability to avert the police and keep a steady rhythm with a single snare drum as he was pursued through the streets of Edinburgh. He has a large temper, which shows in his large and powerful drum beats, which with his strength is where they should preferably stay.

The second oldest, Bryn, came just behind Alan. He was the lead singer and rhythm guitarist who had managed to gain most of his experience from performing around the south of wales. He had been able to make a living of blowing away crowds of gawking civilians as he belted out lyrics from all different corners of Cardiff, and not even feel the strain of fatigue, or at least was able to keep it concealed.

Third came Sean, hailing from Ireland. He happened to be the most reluctant to join the group, but under the influence of our youngest brother he began to tour around with us to ensure his sibling's safety. The determination inside of Sean burned brightly, and showed in his blazing green eyes whenever an opportunity arose to show off the amazing base skills which he had honed since we formed.

I trailed behind Sean, and then finally came Thomas, the youngest to be performing in the band as rhythm guitarist. Although he was the youngest, he has proven his skills and endurance in the streets in thousands of towns over. There's no doubt that he is capable of living up to what we stand for with his fast finger work on the strings of his guitar, and evasiveness when it was needed.

We do have one other brother, Peter, who happened to be the youngest of all of us, but he had been told to stay behind in England with other relatives. It was far too dangerous for him to be running around a city and evading authorities at his age. He was still too inexperienced.

We all filed out as the sun shone bright from its position in the sky as if to greet us; wish us good luck on our mission. Our first step was to find a holding place for us all, and quickly managed to track down our pick up, a young man of about 19 with sunny blonde hair, accompanied with a noticeably annoying cowlick, clear blue eyes and a big goofy looking grin to make him even more easily identifiable, as well as the sign marked 'Kirkland' he held for us to see.

"Nice to see you again, Alfred." Bryn addressed him as we approached the boy stood behind a massive black pickup truck.

"Hey guys, nice to see you made it in time!" Alfred bellowed in his usual loud American voice, as he grasped the amp being towed on Aaland's shoulder with ease and placed it gently into the back of the truck.

"Keep your voice down Git; you're louder than the amp!" I scolded him as usual, even though he chooses to ignore me anyway. Either he doesn't care or didn't hear me.

"Anyway, I know a guy who lives pretty close to your starting point; he should be there once we find it. That's where we're gonna crash if we need a hiding place." Alfred gave us the name and address as he gathered up the rest of the equipment and chucked it unceremoniously into the back of the truck, much to everyone's annoyance.

"Hey, careful with all that ya big bampot! Any of that gets broke then so does yer neck!"

"Sorry dude, but we're behind schedule as it is. Hop in." Alfred motioned towards the truck and all brothers but Alan filed into the back with the rest of the stuff, but as our elder brother walked towards the front of the truck, Alfred quickly grasped his shoulder, holding him back.

"I really wanna talk to Arthur about something, mind if he sits with me at the front?" He inquired as he let go of Alan's shoulder, who had quickly turned round to face me as though I was a foreign object and not his younger sibling.

"…I dunno, do I trust a wee nippet like yourself not to murder our driver before we get to the holdin' spot?" He joked as he playfully knocked me in the arm. I pushed him away and made my way past him and into the passenger seat.

"Very funny, I could conjure lightning with the force of your sense of humour."

"Aye, just shut the door, and yer mouth while yer at it."

He made off to the back of the truck just as Alfred had positioned himself in front of the wheel in the driver's seat, and before I realised properly we were coursing through the streets of Paris, sailing through the different avenues crammed with people going about their normal days, some just strolling along down the pavement, walking the dog, ducking into local stores, going to work, coming home from work…it didn't really matter to me because it all seemed to blur into one big monotonous routine as we rode by, and I almost didn't hear Alfred talking to me in favour of my spiteful daydream.

"Arthur, dude."

"What?"

"…I want you to promise me something."

I sighed as I tore my face away from the window and to Alfred, one eye trained on the road.

"You've been saying that for the past five gigs Alfred. I'm not going to get caught; it's as simple as that."

"There's always a chance." His face always looked so serious when he said this. I scoffed and turned back to the boring streets of Paris, only to be interrupted once again by his incessant talking.

"I won't let you outta the truck until you promise, ya hear me? I don't want you to get in trouble."

"Yeah, fine. Just watch the fucking road. I've never been caught before and just because we're in another country doesn't mean that will change." I said, beginning to start feeling more than a bit irritated.

"You've been close…I just don't want close to turn into something worse…" Alfred sounded genuinely concerned…It's been years since I've heard him speak to me as if he actually cared about me up until recently; we've been friends ever since we were kids, since Alfred joined my school all the way from America when he was about six. The idiot followed me everywhere until we finally became friends and we did everything together…at least, that was until I left for high school and left him alone there for four years, and when we finally saw each other again, it wasn't exactly the best reunion…Alfred had found other friends and I had mine; we bickered and fought a lot, and it was only until we both left that we finally came to tolerate each other. Now he tags along with me and my brothers and helps wherever he can. I'd never say it to him, but I can't really imagine being without him.

"…I promise Alfred."

A small smile graced the American's lips as he relished in his little victory.

"I knew you would. Hey guys, we're here!"

Hi everyone~! So, this is a new story I've been thinking up for a little while now. I'm a little slow at writing but I promise that I'll get future chapters to you as soon as possible! As well as that, a few songs are going to get referenced in this fic, so right now I'm going to state that none of them belong to me, and if one does then I will tell you int the description of the particular chapter it's in.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it so far, and there will be some love triangle fluff in the future as well as also a bit of story depth, it's my first proper story so if it isn't that good then please forgive me and please stay tuned, ok?^^

Ah, also sorry for any bad dialect thrown in anywhere...I'm not scottish^^U I really hope no one is offended by it...