A/N: Vinny is an OC. Crash Warning isn't real, it's an Original Band, OB, heheh. I'm not entirely sure if Pickles taught himself the guitar or if he was taught, but for the sake of this story, please pretend that he was taught by this dude Vinny.
The redheaded drummer almost forgot about his scars, but a bad trip on some LSD helped him remember the awful times of his adolesence. Sure, he was a big rock n' roll star, just like he wanted, but it wasn't as great as he thought it would be. "My... My 'feckin hair..." He felt his dreads and grabbed onto one, gently pulling on it.
xYx
"Heh. How do 'ya like it?" He asked his guitar-teacher-turned-friend, Vinny.
"Eh, it's alright, I guess." Pickles had just recently bought a big can of hairspray, and was trying out the 'glam' look. Even though his hair was still kind of short, the style would quickly live up to it's name sooner or later.
"Alright? 'Dat's it? I t'ink it's so cool." He smiled at him through the mirror. Vinny was older than Pickles, being 25. He met the redhead in a bar somewhere, and noticed he was struggling with his guitar.
"Hey, kid. I noticed you're, uh, havin' some trouble, there." He noticed.
"N-No! No way. I'm fine!" Pickles whined, but Vinny gave him a stern look. "'Yeuh, I'm havin' trouble." The older man sat next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"'Ya know, I could teach you." Pickles looked up from the fret board. He was genuinley interested.
"Really? I don't 'gotta pay or nothin'?" Vinny chuckled at the naive kid.
"Nope! Nothin'. Do you have a place to stay?" Pickles shook his head. "I didn't think so, you look kinda shaggy, like a stray dog." Pickles' face was turning red in anger, and he stood up.
"Who're you callin' shaggy?! I ain't no stray!" He growled, only making Vinny laugh.
"You don't got a place to go right?"
"Right."
"Stray's don't either." Pickles realized his logic and apologized for getting mad, sitting back down.
"Listen, uh, I would love a place to live, and all, but how do I know 'dat I can trust you?" Vinny smiled and looked down.
"I'm Vinny Donahopalis. I'm pretty sure you can trust me." Pickles' eyes widened in realization.
"Wait... Hold on. The Vinny Donahopalis? 'Da lead guitarist of Crash Warning?" Vinny raised up his arms casually.
"The flesh and blood." Pickles couldn't believe it. The lead guitarist for one of his favorite bands offered to teach him guitar and a place to live. Vinny had to chuckle at the teen's expression; His jaw hung open, and his eyes were wide, fully exposing the light green that colored them. "We should get 'outta here. This place closes soon." He gestured him to grab his stuff and they made their way to Vinny's apartment.
"'Feckin'... Vinny." The drummer smiled as he took a small sip from his bottle, remembering his pal from back in the day. Well, he was his pal, until he brought home that guy... That guy that changed his life forever.
Pickles found a poster hanging up on a telephone pole that read "In Search Of Band Members. Please Call If Interested.". He was definetley interested. He knew enough about guitar by now to attempt being part of a small band that would probably end up nowhere. He was prepared for this, so he ripped off one of the tabs with the phone number and ran to a phone booth. He stuck a quarter into the machine and listened as the tones rang through his head. Finally, someone answered.
"Hm? Yeah, what's up?" The guy sounded like he just woke up.
"'Yeuh, I'm callin' aboot, uh, 'da band?" The guy on the other end groaned.
"What? Fuckin' Snakes n' Barrels? That piece of shit? Yeah, you can join, I guess. Do 'ya play an instument?" Pickles smiled as he stuck another quater into the machine. Had he found his muse? His destiny?
"Well, I play 'da guitar, and a bit o' 'da drums. Oh, I sing, too!" He heard the man cough on the other line before he answered.
"We don't need a drummer. We do need a singer. We could use another guitarist, too."
"So I can join?"
"Heh. Don't get your hopes up. Can I call you back?" Pickles furrowed his brow, remembering that he was calling from a public phone.
"How aboot I meet you in 'da park sometime tonight."
"Ok. 9:30. Bring your guitar and your talent, and we'll get to work." He hung up first, leaving the teenaged redhead almost jumping for joy. He had to tell Vinny about the good news, so he ran home (or to Vinny's home) to inform the guitarist about what had happened.
"You what?!"
"I'm in a band! Jus' like I always wanted!" The teen had a big smile on his face as he paced the small living room. Vinny watched in disbelief. Sure, he was taught by one of the best guitarists around, but he wasn't even close to being good enough for an actual band.
"Are you sure about this? 'Ya know, you can wait a little bit, maybe until you're more experienced..." He watched as Pickles grabbed his guitar and a cigarette, lighting it gracefully.
"No way! I've been waitin' 'fer 'dis moment my entire life, and 'yer not gonna tell me any different!" He bid the older man goodbye and left the building, happily on his way to the park to meet the mystery man who would fulfil his lifelong wish.
xYx
"I shoulda' never met him..." He sobbed, pressing his face into his arm, which was lying on the countertop. "I woulda' turned out alright." He ordered another beer and took a big sip. "I wouldn't be livin' in 'dis mess I call a life."
