(A/N I'm using lyrics from bands like Neve and The Blank Theory... Oh, and Trent's voice sounds like the lead singer from The Blank Theory... If you want, you can download The Middle of Nowhere to get the feel. I'll tell you the name of the songs I'm using... thanks for reading!)
(3 A.M. Four days before the show, in Jon's living room)
Trent strummed the guitar before walking up to the mic. He signaled to Shane, who began on the drums, and then at Jon and Zeek, who both strummed their guitars, Jon on his bass. "Okay guys, let's play Middle of Nowhere." (A/N this is by The Blank Theory)
They all began to play, and Trent began to sing.
"I don't always recognize me, not even my own face...
I can't take the ups and downs so, I have to take these pills.
I got to see your face, and as you were falling away,
You looked just like me,
I've disconnected, I'm standing in the middle of nowhere.
Where nothing's real... Standing in the middle of nowhere."
The four men played through the night, practicing, rewriting, replaying their songs over and over again.
Finally, around six thirty, Trent put his guitar down. "Hey, I'm tired."
The three others shook their heads in agreement and put their instruments down. Trent disconnected the guitar cables from the amp and put his guitar in the case, then took a swig of Coke. "How about we practice same time tomorrow? Midnight, maybe?"
"Aright." "Okay." "Cool." "Yep." He got a multitude of mummbled responses, and nodded at his friends while wrapping his black ski jacket around his Lucky Brand t-shirt. "Cya."
Trent opened the door and walked down the steps, running a hand through his messy black hair with his freehand then running it along his jawline. He sighed, letting his hand rest at his side, and shifted his hold on the black guitar case. His square black boots clunked on the sidewalk, and his acid washed jeans were rather form fitting.
Trent sighed again. He continued to walk down the cracked cement, and the tight feeling in his chest was releasing slowly. The sky was turning different shades of indigo blue that Trent had no idea matched his eyes.
Trent was feeling better, the walk was helping calm him.
Suddenly, Trent's depression lifted slightly. He let out a breath as he turned onto Market street. A street filled with businesses with loft's above them. It wasn't the worst part of town, but it was questionable. He walked down to the middle of the street where the fish market was, which was beginning to open, and said hello to Milan, the woman who ran the market with her family, and made his way up the stairs to a large hallway with three doors. He went to the only door on the right, and unlocked it.
As he stepped inside and closed the door, he set his guitar case down and stripped the jacket off and turned on the lights. He looked around at the huge, messy loft.
He sighed again.
Trent saw the flashing light on the answering machine, and walked over to press play, and set his keys down. "Hey, Trent, dude we forgot to tell you when you were here that uh..." Zeek's sleepy voice echoed through the apartment. "Mandy's birthday or whatever is like... next week. Her parents are sending her to France and Italy or some crazy shit like that, so get her something. Something that has to DO with France and Italy, okay? So... yeah."
Chuckling, Trent rolled his eyes and deleted the message. Mandy was Zeek's girlfriend of about seven years now, since his Junior year in high school. She was in college, a trendy, nice, pretty girl that seemed the opposite of something Zeek would go for. But they were great together.
Turning around, Trent looked at his apartment again. He groaned, realizing it smelled like moldy pizza. He turned the radio on, rolled up his sleeves and began to pick up empty pizza boxes.
Trent had a revelation. It was time to clean up his life.
Or at least his apartment.
His life was questionable.
************************************************************************
(3 A.M. Four days before the show, in Jon's living room)
Trent strummed the guitar before walking up to the mic. He signaled to Shane, who began on the drums, and then at Jon and Zeek, who both strummed their guitars, Jon on his bass. "Okay guys, let's play Middle of Nowhere." (A/N this is by The Blank Theory)
They all began to play, and Trent began to sing.
"I don't always recognize me, not even my own face...
I can't take the ups and downs so, I have to take these pills.
I got to see your face, and as you were falling away,
You looked just like me,
I've disconnected, I'm standing in the middle of nowhere.
Where nothing's real... Standing in the middle of nowhere."
The four men played through the night, practicing, rewriting, replaying their songs over and over again.
Finally, around six thirty, Trent put his guitar down. "Hey, I'm tired."
The three others shook their heads in agreement and put their instruments down. Trent disconnected the guitar cables from the amp and put his guitar in the case, then took a swig of Coke. "How about we practice same time tomorrow? Midnight, maybe?"
"Aright." "Okay." "Cool." "Yep." He got a multitude of mummbled responses, and nodded at his friends while wrapping his black ski jacket around his Lucky Brand t-shirt. "Cya."
Trent opened the door and walked down the steps, running a hand through his messy black hair with his freehand then running it along his jawline. He sighed, letting his hand rest at his side, and shifted his hold on the black guitar case. His square black boots clunked on the sidewalk, and his acid washed jeans were rather form fitting.
Trent sighed again. He continued to walk down the cracked cement, and the tight feeling in his chest was releasing slowly. The sky was turning different shades of indigo blue that Trent had no idea matched his eyes.
Trent was feeling better, the walk was helping calm him.
Suddenly, Trent's depression lifted slightly. He let out a breath as he turned onto Market street. A street filled with businesses with loft's above them. It wasn't the worst part of town, but it was questionable. He walked down to the middle of the street where the fish market was, which was beginning to open, and said hello to Milan, the woman who ran the market with her family, and made his way up the stairs to a large hallway with three doors. He went to the only door on the right, and unlocked it.
As he stepped inside and closed the door, he set his guitar case down and stripped the jacket off and turned on the lights. He looked around at the huge, messy loft.
He sighed again.
Trent saw the flashing light on the answering machine, and walked over to press play, and set his keys down. "Hey, Trent, dude we forgot to tell you when you were here that uh..." Zeek's sleepy voice echoed through the apartment. "Mandy's birthday or whatever is like... next week. Her parents are sending her to France and Italy or some crazy shit like that, so get her something. Something that has to DO with France and Italy, okay? So... yeah."
Chuckling, Trent rolled his eyes and deleted the message. Mandy was Zeek's girlfriend of about seven years now, since his Junior year in high school. She was in college, a trendy, nice, pretty girl that seemed the opposite of something Zeek would go for. But they were great together.
Turning around, Trent looked at his apartment again. He groaned, realizing it smelled like moldy pizza. He turned the radio on, rolled up his sleeves and began to pick up empty pizza boxes.
Trent had a revelation. It was time to clean up his life.
Or at least his apartment.
His life was questionable.
************************************************************************
