Ok I forgot the disclaimer!
I don't own any of this stuff, it mostly belongs to Cloud 9 and the
characters of Try Louder and Terrell belong to people who created them on
the UBB.
Mata sat at the bar and sighed heavily. She swished her drink around and looked up at the ceiling. Why was everything so hard for them? You'd think that a band would have an easier time to break through now, after the virus. She sighed again. The problem was, she realized to herself, was that no one had time for music anymore. It seemed that no one wanted music anymore. They were too busy leading tribes and trying to create a better world for the future generations. There was nothing wrong with this though. Maybe, she thought glumly to herself, things are better this way, working to make the future a better place and all that. But at the moment it just didn't seem like the right way. Maybe she was right, and soon everyone would kill themselves off or maybe it was just because she was depressed that she and the rest of her band hadn't had an actual gig in over three months. It was more likely the second reason. Sure they had practiced loads of times, with the hopes of some complete stranger walking up to them and asking if they wouldn't mind performing for them, but still nothing. They had even advertised a lot. They, with the help of their manager Terrell, had put up posters and flyers everywhere, only to be yelled at by the infamous Ebony, leader of the city militia. She had called them, what was it again? "A bunch of worthless street punks that refused to grow up." How could Mata forget? "And there's my favourite drummer!" Called an all too familiar voice from the entrance to the club. Terrell was walking over to her, a huge smile plastered to his face. He was wearing the usual, the blue oxford shirt with no sleeves, the leather pants, and cowboy boots. He was always trying to charm someone, whether it was a new girl who he was trying to sleep with, or even the members of his own band, who knew him too well to even care how he acted toward them. He sat down next to Mata, his bleached hair that almost gave a checkerboard effect shining in the dim bar light. He put his arm around her. "You look pre-occupied about something. What's bothering you?" He asked. "Nothing." Replied Mata simply. Terrell knew better than to ask anymore on the subject. Mata was known to be one of the quietest, least open people ever. And next to her more talkative band members, Mata seemed completely different sometimes. After an awkward silence, Terrell hastily changed the subject, "Where are the others then?" "Not sure really." Mata replied, "They were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago." Then, as if on cue, the other three girls walked into the bar. First Fay-Lynn, the lead singer of Try Louder. Her jet-black hair always had that spiky side fringe that framed her eyes, sporting the usual Cleopatra-style makeup. Her clothes were relatively plain compared to the other members. She wore a white gypsy top and a long black skirt. Next came in Corey, probably one of the most outrageous people (clothes- wise) that Mata had ever seen. Low baggy jeans with combat boots on her bottom, and a black leather bikini top to show off her many tattoos. Her face, however, was sort of like Fay-Lynn's. She too had the short spiky hair, but hers had red tips to top it off. She too had exotic looking features and makeup that gave her eyes a cat-like appearance. Last, was Honni Marya, but was referred to by the rest of the band as either Honni or just plain Hon. Her long blond curly hair was dyed with streaks of red black and orange and was put up in two buns as usual. She wore deep red cords with black stitching, and a yellow t-shirt over an orange long sleeved shirt. Her makeup was not like the others in the group however. She had three orange lines on one cheek and the opposite eye was covered in yellow eye shadow. Fay-Lynn, Honni, and Corey looked over at Mata. As usual she was sitting quietly, with her blond hair up in a reverse French braid. She wore the usual, covered in lots of green and blue. She wore a backless metallic green and blue top and blue low-rise pants. She also had the ornamental green and blue diamond on her cheek. They all sat down with her, ordered their drinks, and sat in silence with her for a while, (Terrell had gone to the bathroom, as to not be there during the awkward time) and then Fay-Lynn spoke up, in her usual kind voice, "We're sorry we're late, Mata, you know we didn't mean it." Mata shook her head, "I've been thinking, guys. I don't think that this band is working out. Nothing seems to be working out. I want to move out to the country or to another city or something." "Yeah, I guess we could do that," said Honni quietly. "No, I meant by myself. It's not you three; I love you to bits. I just feel like I need some time on my own or something." "You WHAT?" cried Corey. "I can't believe that you could be so-" Fay-Lynn held her back. "I don't want this to turn into a fight, Corey. It will only make things harder than they already are." Corey knew that Fay-Lynn was right, so she just quieted down for a bit. "Mata, you know we want what's best for you," Came Honni's kind voice from where she sat, "But are you sure that this is what you want?" Mata nodded silently. Then Terrell, who felt that the storm had passed, walked back to where the girls were sitting. "So, how's my favourite-" "GO AWAY TERRELL!" They all yelled in unison. Terrell, used to this sort of behavior, walked off to go flirt with the cute girl that had been eyeing him at the other side of the club. They talked it over for a while, but nothing changed. Mata was very stubborn, and no matter what they said, nothing would make her change her mind about her decision. "I might regret this later," she said, her eyes starting to water up, "But right now it seems like the best idea." And with that she gave each of them one final smile and walked out of the club.
Mata sat at the bar and sighed heavily. She swished her drink around and looked up at the ceiling. Why was everything so hard for them? You'd think that a band would have an easier time to break through now, after the virus. She sighed again. The problem was, she realized to herself, was that no one had time for music anymore. It seemed that no one wanted music anymore. They were too busy leading tribes and trying to create a better world for the future generations. There was nothing wrong with this though. Maybe, she thought glumly to herself, things are better this way, working to make the future a better place and all that. But at the moment it just didn't seem like the right way. Maybe she was right, and soon everyone would kill themselves off or maybe it was just because she was depressed that she and the rest of her band hadn't had an actual gig in over three months. It was more likely the second reason. Sure they had practiced loads of times, with the hopes of some complete stranger walking up to them and asking if they wouldn't mind performing for them, but still nothing. They had even advertised a lot. They, with the help of their manager Terrell, had put up posters and flyers everywhere, only to be yelled at by the infamous Ebony, leader of the city militia. She had called them, what was it again? "A bunch of worthless street punks that refused to grow up." How could Mata forget? "And there's my favourite drummer!" Called an all too familiar voice from the entrance to the club. Terrell was walking over to her, a huge smile plastered to his face. He was wearing the usual, the blue oxford shirt with no sleeves, the leather pants, and cowboy boots. He was always trying to charm someone, whether it was a new girl who he was trying to sleep with, or even the members of his own band, who knew him too well to even care how he acted toward them. He sat down next to Mata, his bleached hair that almost gave a checkerboard effect shining in the dim bar light. He put his arm around her. "You look pre-occupied about something. What's bothering you?" He asked. "Nothing." Replied Mata simply. Terrell knew better than to ask anymore on the subject. Mata was known to be one of the quietest, least open people ever. And next to her more talkative band members, Mata seemed completely different sometimes. After an awkward silence, Terrell hastily changed the subject, "Where are the others then?" "Not sure really." Mata replied, "They were supposed to be here fifteen minutes ago." Then, as if on cue, the other three girls walked into the bar. First Fay-Lynn, the lead singer of Try Louder. Her jet-black hair always had that spiky side fringe that framed her eyes, sporting the usual Cleopatra-style makeup. Her clothes were relatively plain compared to the other members. She wore a white gypsy top and a long black skirt. Next came in Corey, probably one of the most outrageous people (clothes- wise) that Mata had ever seen. Low baggy jeans with combat boots on her bottom, and a black leather bikini top to show off her many tattoos. Her face, however, was sort of like Fay-Lynn's. She too had the short spiky hair, but hers had red tips to top it off. She too had exotic looking features and makeup that gave her eyes a cat-like appearance. Last, was Honni Marya, but was referred to by the rest of the band as either Honni or just plain Hon. Her long blond curly hair was dyed with streaks of red black and orange and was put up in two buns as usual. She wore deep red cords with black stitching, and a yellow t-shirt over an orange long sleeved shirt. Her makeup was not like the others in the group however. She had three orange lines on one cheek and the opposite eye was covered in yellow eye shadow. Fay-Lynn, Honni, and Corey looked over at Mata. As usual she was sitting quietly, with her blond hair up in a reverse French braid. She wore the usual, covered in lots of green and blue. She wore a backless metallic green and blue top and blue low-rise pants. She also had the ornamental green and blue diamond on her cheek. They all sat down with her, ordered their drinks, and sat in silence with her for a while, (Terrell had gone to the bathroom, as to not be there during the awkward time) and then Fay-Lynn spoke up, in her usual kind voice, "We're sorry we're late, Mata, you know we didn't mean it." Mata shook her head, "I've been thinking, guys. I don't think that this band is working out. Nothing seems to be working out. I want to move out to the country or to another city or something." "Yeah, I guess we could do that," said Honni quietly. "No, I meant by myself. It's not you three; I love you to bits. I just feel like I need some time on my own or something." "You WHAT?" cried Corey. "I can't believe that you could be so-" Fay-Lynn held her back. "I don't want this to turn into a fight, Corey. It will only make things harder than they already are." Corey knew that Fay-Lynn was right, so she just quieted down for a bit. "Mata, you know we want what's best for you," Came Honni's kind voice from where she sat, "But are you sure that this is what you want?" Mata nodded silently. Then Terrell, who felt that the storm had passed, walked back to where the girls were sitting. "So, how's my favourite-" "GO AWAY TERRELL!" They all yelled in unison. Terrell, used to this sort of behavior, walked off to go flirt with the cute girl that had been eyeing him at the other side of the club. They talked it over for a while, but nothing changed. Mata was very stubborn, and no matter what they said, nothing would make her change her mind about her decision. "I might regret this later," she said, her eyes starting to water up, "But right now it seems like the best idea." And with that she gave each of them one final smile and walked out of the club.