Give 'em Hell, Kid

Give 'em Hell, Kid

"We are young, and we don't care. Your dreams and your hopeless hair"

Jazz

I sighed as the door slammed behind Sophie. I missed her company in the week; she used to always be here for me. She used to always be up for a laugh. Now I just had to fend for myself; which wasn't as easy as it seemed.

I sighed again and looked back down at my 'Kerrang!' magazine, which didn't seem to interest me anymore. I groaned; my head was pounding. It felt like someone had hit me over the head with a mallet.

Oh shit! I thought, I remembered the band and I had signed up for a group this Monday to meet other local bands and hang out at the old studio in New Orleans. We were all going to take the train there and meet up there at 1:00.

I jumped out of my seat as my phone started vibrating in my pocket. I dug into my pink florescent skinny jeans and pulled out my battered phone. The caller ID read 'Lotty'.

I smiled, at least someone bothered to call me to remind me.

I pressed the green button.

"Hello?" I asked, walking over to the coffee machine.

"Hey, Jazz. It's Lotty."

"Hey! Please tell me you forgot about the club thing today too?" I poured water into the machine.

"Ha-ha, no. I was just ringing to remind you about it. I know what you're like"

I felt offended, but then again, she wasn't telling a lie.

I sighed and poured the coffee into a mug.

"Yeah, I always forget shit like that."

"So, you are coming right?" she asked.

"Yeah, sure. Wouldn't miss it." I took a sip of coffee and it felt like everything bad had gone in the world. Even my headache seemed to have cleared. It's weird how the hot liquid often made me feel happy again. Coffee can fix all problems…

Except when I put my bass in the dish washer.

I started laughing crazily down the phone to Lotty. I sounded like a maniac!

"Urm... Jazz? Are you okay?"

Yeah. I'm. Okay." I managed to breathe out through my laughter.

"What are you laughing about?" Lotty asked, I could hear something smash to the ground on the other side of the phone and I could hear Lotty whispering something that sounded like "shit!"

"What was that?" I asked, my laughing fit starting to calm itself down.

"Oh, I knocked my cola over."

"See! Who's the stupid one now?" I asked, gulping down the rest of my coffee.

"I never said you were stupid. I just called you forgetful."

"Oh, Ha-ha. Well, urm, I guess I'll see you at 1:00 right?" I put my mug into the dish washer, which made me start laughing again.

"Oh my god. Seriously, Jazz. You are crazy. But yeah, I'll see you then" Then she put the phone down.

After I had gotten over my fit of maniac laughter, I went upstairs to put fresh makeup on and new clothes.

I walked down the hall and walked past Sophie's bedroom. I smiled as I saw it looked much neater than mine. I've seen her walls covered in posters of metal bands, pictures of her artwork and I helped her paint the walls the current fetching shade of pink. I looked up to the ceiling and noticed that she had painted it midnight blue with lots of little silver stars sprinkled all over it. Sophie always liked to make a big deal of everything she paints. Sometimes, when she was at work and I was bored and had fuck all to do, I would leaf through her sketchbooks and look at her drawings and paintings; a lot of dark stuff, which sort of worried me a bit.

Sophie spent a lot of time in her room by herself these days; always fixated on something. Like work.

She hardly ever came to gigs or parties with me now. She used to always have a laugh with me and we were always so close. I sometimes wonder whether it's my fault that we haven't spent so much time together now. I mean, I'm nearly always with the band now. Practicing and trying to get gigs. I just hope it wasn't my fault, or hers, for that matter.

I sighed and walked into my room. It had a large banner on the door saying 'Jazz' and a poster of Terrie B from My Ruin. She was like, my idol. I smiled at her and entered my bomb-site of a room.

Everything had fallen off the shelves. All my books and tapes and perfumes and magazines were scattered over the floor. You could hardly see the floor which was a bright, garish pink colour. My walls were absolutely covered in posters. The walls that you could see were covered in black and pink checkers that Sophie had helped me paint last summer.

Half of my wardrobe's contents had fallen on the floor. I gasped as I saw my Guns n Roses skinny fit shirt on the floor. My prized possession. I got it at their gig when I went with Sophie and we were lucky enough to meet the guys backstage after the gig and Slash signed my shirt for me.

I picked it up and put it back in my wardrobe. When I opened it, the rest of the contents of my wardrobe were blinding. Florescent pinks and blues and yellow all stared at me, along with blacks, greys and chequered jeans. I loved my clothes, they showed who I was. A crazy, music loving kid.

I put on my pinstriped jeans and my Abercrombie mauve shirt and ran into the bathroom.

I had eyeliner under my eyes and it had also run down my cheeks. My eyes were bloodshot and red; they made me look seriously ill. My face was white. Not pale, but white. I looked like a patient who had cancer. I took all my makeup off and started again, being careful to make sure my headache didn't make me smudge my eyeliner. I looked better after I had put it on. Sophie always says I look pretty without makeup too but what does she know? She wears suits for crying out loud.

Well, she does usually wear the same sort of clothes as me when she comes home from work and at weekends and gigs and stuff n stuff. But they're usually not so vibrant. She wears a lot of black band tee's and dark skinny jeans.

I stared at my spiky black and purple hair. I couldn't believe I was a natural blonde. Sophie had seen my hair when it was blonde, brown, pink, green, red, purple, and now black. I liked to experiment with my hair. I didn't really care what anyone else thought. I liked who I was.

I brushed my teeth with Colgate, which made me feel a lot better, considering my mouth tasted like sick and coffee a few minutes ago.

I ran back into my room to grab my bass guitar. I was just about to pick it up when I wondered whether the others would be taking their instruments too. I mean, surely Charlotte couldn't take her drum kit with her?

I ran downstairs, into the kitchen and to the pin board. I looked up and down it and found the leaflet about the meet. It said:

'Can bring instruments if you like. (Drumkits are not required as they are stocked here)'

Ahh, good. I thought. I had just brought a new bass (from Sophie's money. I had promised to pay her back though) and it was insane. I wanted to show it off to all the 'rock star' wannabes that were going to be there. Or even worse, people who wanted to be 'rock star' wannabes.

I smiled, ran upstairs (again) and grabbed my bass. I put on my black and green converses and ran out the door in a flash.

I pulled my Gloomy Bear purse out of my pocket. I had 25. Surely that would be enough for a return ticket? These are the sort of moments I long for a car. Even a shitty little mini like Sophie's would be okay.

I walked down the street, in the opposite direction to the city and sat down at the bus stop to wait for a bus to take me to the station.

I looked around. There was an old lady with shopping bags sitting down opposite me, a man with a green and black Mohican sitting to my right, who was bobbing his head up and down to the sound of his IPod and a girl who looked like a footballer's wife, chatting to a friend about a party the other night on her pink Motorola razr, to my left. She looked like a right slut, I thought to myself. She was wearing a pink mini with pink leather high heeled boots and a disgusting white playboy top which was see through. I looked away from her. What a whore. I hated girls like that.

My phone started ringing, the likes of 'Stupid MF' by Mindless Self Indulgence started blasting out of my phone's tiny speaker. Everyone looked at me in disgust, especially the girl in pink. She turned her nose up at me and did a double take when she saw my outfit. I smiled at her, hoping to make her feel embarrassed, and answered my phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me" said Sophie's voice down the other end of the line.

"Hey! How did the meeting go?" I asked, picking at my nails.

"It was cancelled. I would still be in it now if it was still on." She didn't sound disappointed

"Oh, why was that?" I said, sounding sympathetic. Just in case she was disappointed.

"Something about Cartoon Network not being able to come. Thank God."

"You're obviously happy about that then?" I asked.

"God, yeah. I wasn't in the mood for a meeting today"

"Aaah, sounds just like the Soph I know" I smiled, it really did seem like she was herself again.

"I'm still good old me, don't you worry" I could hear her sorting through papers, she was obviously sitting at her desk.

"Good. Anyway, why did you call?" I asked, the girl in pink was starting to look angry as I was making it hard for her to hear her conversation. I wanted to chivvy mine and Sophie's conversation along a little bit; I was scared the girl in pink was going to attack me with her metre long candy floss pink nails.

"Oh, just to remind you about your meeting today"

"Oh! There was a meeting?" I said sarcastically, "I forgot all about it! Considering Lotty rang me to remind me as well! God, I am such a dumb ass!"

Sophie laughed.

"So, you have remembered, yeah?"

"Yeeeeessssssss. I have remembered. Don't worry."

"Okay, good. See you later then!"

She hung up abruptly, leaving me to say goodbye to the dial tone.

Why did she care if I remembered or not anyway? Maybe she was just bored and wanted someone to speak to? Her job did seem so boring.

I groaned, the bus was taking forever! I remembered when Sophie and I got lost when we went to London to see out families. Yep, that's right. We're not American. We come from the boring and miserable UK. When we were teenagers and went to school together, we always had dreams of living in a posh apartment in New York, spending our lives being in a band and making amazing music together. But living in a trashy, downtown house spending my life being in a band and trying to make amazing music… without Sophie… was okay.

I mean, she was my best friend. We were like sisters. But I just wished she hadn't changed. I loved the way she used to be. Her carefree, annoying, fun-loving self. She used to be even more risky than me!

I sighed, people do change, I thought.

And there was a God, because the bus finally came.

I got on, making my way past the girl in pink (actually, make that pushing my way past the girl in pink) and sat at the back of the bus.

Everyone turned round to look at me. I was pretty used to that now though. I didn't care what they thought of me. I really didn't. They could stick it where it hurts.

I gave them all my 'don't mess with me, bitch' look and got my IPod out of my bag.

Aaah, music. It was always there to make you happy, sad, angry, annoyed, relaxed, care-free and alive. Music had defiantly saved me at some points.

I turned up 'Rooftops' by LostProphets really loudly so that it felt like Ian Watkins was singing his amazing lyrics right into my ears next to me, sitting here on the bus with me.

I loved this song. I felt back the urge to start singing, but it was getting tough.

"When our time is up, when our lives are done"

I loved their lyrics, Sophie always makes up good lyrics.

"When we say we've had our fun"

I knew I was singing now but I couldn't stop myself. I was in the mood to-

"Scream your heart out. Scream your heart out."

Someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind. Oh shit, I knew I was done for.

I looked up into the eyes of a man with long, chin length, brown hair. He was wearing thick rimmed black glasses and had his fringe slicked down with wax. He was smiling at me, he had a nice smile. His teeth were practically perfect. I realised he was wearing a knuckle duster necklace, just like mine. I turned off my IPod and looked into his brown eyes. I realised he had a Mindless Self Indulgence shirt on too. He was just about to say something when…

"Oh my god!" I interrupted him "You like MSI?"

He smiled, "Yeah, good friends with Jimmy too. Do you?"

"Wow! You know Jimmy? That's insane. Yeah, I love them." I blushed; he had a really nice smile.

"I suppose you are gonna tell me off for singing, huh?" I asked, I knew my cheeks were bright red now. Grrrreeeaaatttt.

"What? No, no! I was just gonna say you are a really great singer! You really pulled off that song well"

No way! I thought. Surely he's just joking around with me, maybe having a laugh with his mates but alas, there was no one with him, except his bass guitar. I guess you could count that as a friend, I knew that mine always kept me company.

"Really? Wow, thanks. I'm not much of a singer, more of a bassist"

"Aaah, a bassist? Me too. We have a lot in common and I've only spent 10 minutes with you"

I giggled; I always had a habit of giggling around someone I liked. God, he must think I'm a total and utter idiot.

He smiled, "So, where are you going to, beautiful?"

Oh my god. Did he just call me beautiful? Surely I'm dreaming right? Somebody pinch me. Actually no, don't. I want this good dream to go on just a little bit longer.

"Uhmm... I urm, I'm going to this group thing with my band. In New Orleans. I'm just getting the bus to the train station now."

"No way! Me too! That's so weird."

I smiled, he suddenly ruffled my spiky hair.

"Wow, you hair is amazing."

I laughed. "My hair is hopeless more like. I can never get it to go flat now; it's prone to going like this. It's used to it."

The man with the gorgeous smile laughed. I couldn't help but ask for his name.

"What's your name?"

I didn't mean to make it sound as abrupt as that. Jesus Christ, Jasmine!

"Mikey, Mikey Way. And your name is?"

I smiled. Mikey, Michael. That's a nice name. I liked it.

"Jazz Hirst"

"Jasmine, that's a nice name" he said

"Urg. Don't call me that horrible word. If anyone calls me Jasmine, I throttle them with a rope. Seriously, I hate the name Jasmine."

Mikey laughed, showing his pearly white teeth again.

"I think it's a nice name, you shouldn't be ashamed to be called it."

I raised one eyebrow and smiled at him.

"So that means I can call you… Michael?"

His eyes shot wide open. He looked at the smile on my face and grinned.

"No. Way. I hate that name"

"See, now we are both even."

Mikey smiled and looked behind me; we appeared to be at the station.

"Well, you are coming with, right?"

"Yep, Definitely" I think even if I wasn't going to the same place he was I would still get off here with him. Now I knew him, I knew I wouldn't be able to let go of him.

We got off the bus and went to the station. We paid for our fares (actually, he paid for mine) and we got on the train.

The next two hours went by in a blur. A nice, Mikey filled blur.