So Surreal – So Real
Chapter Two
They'd been together ever since they could remember. Well, Shippou could remember. They might have hung out together before he came along. But that was all he knew. The earliest he could remember all of them being together was the day he first met them. That day when he was around seven, and his family had first moved to the neighborhood. The three of them – Inuyasha, Kouga and Miroku – had been making a stink bomb in a vacant lot on the edge of town.
"They looked so cool," the young redhead breathed, staring up at his ceiling, head pillowed by his folded arms.
'But they were so much older and wanted nothing to do with me.' He thought bitterly, green eyes narrowing at the memory.
He'd just been peddling around on the shiny red bike he'd just gotten for his birthday, the sun shining down on his coppery head, making him squint against the glare. The prickle on the back of his neck warned of the beginning of a sunburn he would later feel the consequences of. But right then he didn't care, intent on enjoying his freedom from his grouchy mother and the mountain of cardboard boxes in the moving van (most of which he was too small to move, much less lift, thank God).
Grinning, he sped around a corner, self-made wind pushing his bangs off of his sweaty forehead. But the next second, he was screeching to a stop. The fenced off area of weedy grass was talking! …In three different voices…? Edging his bike further, he peered around the old wooden fence cautiously… Only to witness the coolest, most exciting thing of his entire life! Oh my God! Of course, being only seven-years-old meant he hadn't seen much – even less of the exciting or cool variety – so that wasn't saying much. But for a calm, old person-filled suburb, this was pretty cool and exciting.
There, off in the farthest corner, were three older boys bent over an array of bottles, jars and who-knows-what, mixing and stirring and snickering quietly all the while. And if the horrendous smells the corner was omitting were any indication, it did indeed seem very fun and amusing, especially to a young boy who only lived with his mother and father. The young Shippou was interested to see more, but just then, one of the boys just happened to glance over his shoulder and catch a glimpse of his bright hair.
"Oi! What're you doing around here, you little runt?" he called, jumping to his feet and quickly striding forward.
Shippou gave a soft 'eep!' and scuttled back to his bike and hightailed it out of there before they could chase him down and beat the crap out of him. Of course that very thought had crossed the boys mind, but he wasn't going to act on it. Who would willingly desert a stink bomb at the age of ten? Not him, for sure. Besides, whom would the little shrimp tell? His mom? Please. Like he even knew what they were doing!
Of course, Shippou didn't tell anyone. He was too smart for that. After all, why would he tell someone like his mother when all he wanted to do was hang out with the 'big boys' with the super-cool stink bomb? He wouldn't tell anyone, only because tattling would diminish his chances to be part of their group. They'd never trust him if he did that. Shippou was a certified genius for his age. How else would he be able to skip three grades and be the top of his class? No, tattling would ruin his chances of ever being able to fit in, genius or no.
Over the next couple of years, Shippou trailed the three like a dog. Sure, he might have been annoying at times because of his constant presence, but he did come in handy with new pranks and trying to keep up the innocent act. But even with his amazing brainpower and helpfulness, they still never really accepted him – he was always more of a cute mascot than anything else.
"Until they really needed me," he mumbled with a jaw-popping yawn. "After all, you can't have a 'hard-core' rock band without a drummer…"
It was a new school year and Shippou wasn't in the mood to get up. He was starting his first day of middle school and wasn't too excited. Sure, the guys were going to be there but he knew they weren't really his guys. Heck, they barely tolerated him. No, he was starting seventh grade at the age of ten. Ten-year-olds would normally be starting fifth grade, but not him. He was special – an exception. And at the age of ten, facing ridicule from his 'peers' for five years, going on six, he wasn't too thrilled. Maybe if he was an average student, he might have gotten along fine. But, as fate would have it, he was ranked number one, the top of his class, valedictorian, all that and a bag of chips. And that was the reason he didn't want to go to school.
He'd begged his parents last year to let him be home schooled. But his mother was a lawyer and had no time, and neither did his father, who was the CEO of a big networking company in the middle of something or other – whether it be new fall seasons, summer premiers, or heading off or creating all sorts of publicity for celebrities and the like. At the suggestion of a tutor or special curriculum, his parents just proclaimed that their son would go to school with other kids, whether they were his age or not – end of discussion.
So there he was the first day of school seeing how long he could put off getting up and ready before Clarisse, their housemaid and his self-appointed nanny, barged in and smacked him with her broom and frog marched him into the shower. Of course, he already knew from the previous year when it took precisely twelve minutes and thirty-two-point-six seconds. And this year would keep up the tradition. Not that it really mattered in the long run. Testing his boundaries as far as they would go without breaking was as far as he went. He'd been doing it for months now and it was starting to get pretty boring. He was the good-goody, apple-shiner with the perfect grades and the perfect record and the perfect life. And the sad thing was that even he was starting to believe it and accept it.
He arrived at school right before the first bell rang, giving him enough time to hike it up to his first period class. Which was a good thing considering he had no one to really hang out with and banish his lonely helplessness. The day went by in a blur of schedules, class rules and syllabuses, grumpy lunch ladies, spit wads, and 'Kick Me' signs stuck to his back. Sure, some of his classes seemed interesting and a scarce few of his teachers were decent and the food – although served by women who looked like men and acted like talking/grunting boars – was much better than elementary school food. But the whole day just seemed miserable and made the whole 'middle school experienced' dulled and tarnished even further in his mind.
By the time the last bell rang, signaling the end of seventh period, Shippou was almost to the point of kissing the floor covers of Clarisse's beat-up Volvo, grease stains and all. Of course, he didn't do that, but he did dive head first into the back seat, nearly coming close. When they pulled into his driveway, Shippou had the second-greatest surprise of his life. There, leaning over the handlebars of their custom mountain bikes, sat his three gods – Inuyasha, Miroku and Kouga. Shippou almost launched himself out of the car and at their torsos. Almost.
What he did do, was calmly slide out of his seat and nod a greeting at the older boys, striding up his front steps and tossing his oversized backpack into the front hall, shrugging when papers went flying as his bag exploded, zippers busted. He then turned and regarded them 'calmly and coolly.' Really, he was shaking in his sneakers. But like they really needed to know that.
"Hey, what's up?" he said from the shade of his porch, arms crossed, legs planted firmly shoulder-width apart.
They seemed to be appraising him seriously, contemplating whether it was worth it or not, whatever 'it' was. Finally, Miroku nodded, promptly followed by Kouga. Inuyasha was a bit more hesitant but finally consented even if majority ruled and his vote would probably be vetoed if he disagreed. Coming up to him they clapped him on the shoulder and congratulated him on passing, welcoming him into the group.
"Wait, wait," he broke them off, confused. "What, exactly, am I a part of now?"
Sure, he was jumping for joy inside, but that day had been so crappy and his mood so spoiled, that he was a tad more partial to suspect that this was all a big rues, and they'd all be laughing at his expense later on. All three erupted in loud, obnoxious peals of laughter at his question, finding it absurdly hilarious. Shippou just waited for their amusement to die down, regarding them as if they were all fit for the big padded rooms and men with white coats and big needles. They finally calmed down and realized he really had no idea what they were talking about. Finally, Miroku decided to give him a break and explain.
"Shippou, welcome to Brand New Breed. You're our new drummer," he said very matter-of-factly.
To which, Shippou's jaw promptly dropped and he almost keeled over. That, of course, called for even more laughter on the three older boys' parts and Shippou to continue staring at them in open-mouthed shock. Eventually, he regained enough sense to invite them in for something to eat, which they heartily accepted.
That turned out to be not such a good idea, seeing as how they almost emptied the refrigerator, freezer, cupboards, and pantry, leaving almost nothing for Clarisse to cook dinner with. She eventually chased them out and they left with wide smiles and inflated egos the size of Texas.
That first day of middle school so long ago, Shippou went to bed content and with a sense of belonging. And the weekend after, he'd set out and began his new life as the drummer for Brand New Breed by convincing Clarisse to get him a full drum set. Yep, life had certainly begun to look up. Except for the fact that not even after five years of being one of them they still refused to include him in their weekly card game nights. Sure, life had started to look up that day, and he didn't feel so lonely all the time, but sometimes life just really sucked.
X
While Shippou was lethargically reminiscing, Inuyasha was across town, grumbling at his terrible luck. Not only did he have to go access enough food and booze to satisfy his two best friends and band mates' insatiable hunger, he also just happened to run into Nancy, his most recent girlfriend he'd dumped the previous week over something or other; he couldn't remember. Let's just say it wasn't a very pleasant experience for the eighteen-year-old. And as a result, he was still beer and snack-less.
So now, he was trudging around the small shopping district trying to find someplace he could purchase the needed items that was still open. And it being almost one in the morning, his chances were slim – very slim. He really wanted to get back to another game of Spoons, too. Well, it looked like that wasn't happening in the near future…
Glancing up dejectedly, his amber eyes suddenly spotted a… A bright, neon sign! He was saved! Hallelujah! At that moment, that sign was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, even if a few of the letters were either not working at all or blinking like an eye with lint in it, and it was probably just another greasy twenty-four hour liquor store…
Pushing the swinging door open, Inuyasha stepped into the fluorescent-lighted room full of racks of chip bags, candy bars, energy drinks, and cheep magazines. Glancing at the lady behind the counter, he perused the isles, grabbing whatever looked good at first glance. He really didn't care, as long as he could get back to the game as soon as possible.
Eventually, he found himself standing in front of the large refrigerators in the back, eyeing the beer on the bottom-most shelf, debating whether he should risk it or not. If he was lucky, he could walk out of there with a six-pack of beer and not get carded. Or, he could just not slide open the door and reach for the cold cans of Coors and just go for the Monster on the shelf above it… Apparently, he didn't have to make the decision, seeing as how his hand went for the beer anyway. Shrugging, he nestled the pack under his arm, juggling the armfuls of assorted snack-food items.
Turns out he was lucky that night, too. The lady with the big hair behind the counter didn't even look at his face; much less ask to see an ID. She was too engrossed in her paperback book hidden under the counter that he, ahem, wasn't supposed to see. Inuyasha just smirked as he exited the shop, plastic bags in each hand. Time to make a comeback in Spoons back at the garage!
On the walk back to Miroku's house, Inuyasha, the neighborhood 'Mr. Cool' actually had a light spring in his step and whistled softly to himself. His mood had obviously risen since his defeat at Spoons earlier if the swinging bags of groceries was any indication. He seemed almost like a different person!
Upon arriving back to the dimly lit garage, his mood plummeted once more. Not only were his friends not playing Spoons, they were completely conked out on the sagging couches pushed against the wall! Growling obscenities under his breath, Inuyasha dumped the bags on the floor and kicked the two sleeping guys off the couches and onto the floor.
Kouga and Miroku both jerked awake to find a seething Inuyasha leering down at them. Of course, still delirious from their little 'nap', they didn't notice his livid expression. Instead, they hefted themselves to their feet, yawning, and sat back down on the couches.
"Hey, Yasha, whazzup?" Miroku slurred sleepily, rubbing at his chin covered in dried drool.
"Yeah, hey, did you get food? It sure took a while…" Kouga chimed in, a goofy smile spreading across his face.
Inuyasha just growled in frustration and plunked down in a folding chair, glowering at the other two. They weren't worth yelling and screaming at, especially when they were still half asleep. He flicked a wrist at the bags leaning against the wall disinterested.
The moment their eyes landed on the 'treasure', Miroku and Kouga perked up and scrambled over each other, digging in quickly.
"All right! Nice!" they cheered in excitement, ripping open bags of chips and candy wrappers.
Kouga tossed him a can of beer muttering a "Nice job on the booze, Mutt-face." To which Inuyasha flipped him off and cracked open his drink. The other two had already drained one each and were reaching for seconds, Miroku gathering his chocolate and sugar around him possessively; shooting the other two glares as if to dare them to steal one. Kouga easily swiped one without him noticing, though and they all went about munching and slurping to their hearts' content.
Inuyasha just rolled his eyes and sat back leisurely. Maybe after they'd eaten their fill and had woken up a bit more, he'd pummel them senseless and they could get on with another game of Spoons. Inuyasha snorted in amusement at the thought of kicking their asses. Miroku looked up at the soft sound, a hunk of Abba-zabba hanging from him mouth.
"Whaffa doi'g, I'utassa?" he managed around the large piece of taffy, noisily slurping milky spit back into his mouth clumsily, bringing a hand up under his chin to save his shirt. Inuyasha internally gagged at the sight and averted his gaze.
"It's nothin', Roku. Just keep gnawing on your sick cavity factories," he mumbled, tilting his head back for another swig of alcohol.
"O', Ohay…" Miroku said, obliging happily. Inuyasha just shuddered while Kouga laughed loudly, filling the small space with guffaws rivaling a donkey's.
Later, they were all once again sitting around the table. But instead of another card game, the three were discussing music and upcoming gigs. Sure, they probably shouldn't have been making any decisions without their drummer present, but they didn't really care. Besides, it was almost three o' clock in the morning, and they were too lazy to even think of getting him.
"That record company, what's their name?" Kouga gestured with his hand, snapping his fingers trying to remember. "Y'know! The one that keeps buggin' us! What're they called again?"
"D'you mean the West Indie Records people or the SonicSound guy?" Miroku hiccupped.
"No, no! It's that one lady! What's her face!" Kouga exclaimed in frustration, shaking his hand furiously in an attempt to remember.
"Um… Nope, can't remember any lady. 'Cept that one from West Indie, but she wasn't the one with the offer… She was hot…" Miroku mumbled sleepily, a perverted smile slowly spreading across his face.
Inuyasha smacked him upside the head lightly. "Lightweight," he muttered, getting annoyed with the conversation.
"C'mon! Yash, you were there! 'Member? She was real old and had an eye patch!" Kouga prompted eagerly.
"Eye patch?" Inuyasha looked at him quizzically. "Oh! Eye-patch! Right! The hag!" he said loudly in realization. "I remember her! She smelled like my grandma…"
"Yeah!" Kouga exclaimed excitedly. "Where was she from?"
"Why?"
'Because!" Kouga said urgently. "She called the other day with this awesome deal and I lost her number! Maybe they're listed in the phonebook or something!"
"Deal?" Miroku asked blearily. "What kind of deal?"
Inuyasha pushed his groggy head away from his shoulder, causing the dark-haired nineteen-year-old to slip off his chair with a giggle.
"Oops!"
Inuyasha rolled his eyes and turned back to Kouga, interested in what his pony-tailed friend was saying. "What kind of deal?"
"Hey!" Miroku's hand waved over the top of the table. "I said tat!"
"Just shut up, Miroku!" Inuyasha kicked him irritably in the side.
"Ow!'
"You were saying?"
Kouga shot him an amused glance but quickly calmed down, leaning over the table slightly in excitement. "She said full recording contract and record deal. She really liked our sound and offered to pay for housing and new equipment if we went down to LA to settle everything and start recording."
"LA? Holy crap! Are you shitting me?" Inuyasha almost yelled.
"Does it look like I'm 'shitting you?'"
"Damn!" Inuyasha leapt from his seat and paced back and forth in excitement, not really knowing what to do with himself. Then something occurred to him and the happy grin turned into a scowl.
"Damn…" he repeated more softly, continuing to pace.
"Yash, you said that already. Aren't you psyched? This is fuckin' awesome!" Kouga exclaimed almost to the point of doing a little 'happy dance' in his chair.
"Ko, what about Shippou?" Inuyasha asked softly, facing the dusty wall instead of his friend.
"Huh?" Kouga asked intelligently.
"Shippou! Our drummer! He's fuckin' fifteen!" Inuyasha yelled, whirling around in frustration.
Kouga's face fell dramatically.
"Oh…"
"Yeah," Inuyasha snapped, plunking down on the couch with a sigh. "We might have to turn them down, Ko. Shippou's too young to go down to LA on his own… We're officially screwed…"
"Tama records…" Miroku mumbled from his spot on the floor, turning over with a yawn and sitting up, having slept through the whole discussion. Seeing his friends' faces and sensing the thick tension in the air, he just stared at them for a moment before shrugging. If it was life-threateningly important they'd tell him… eventually.
"Hey, guys. What's up?" he asked innocently, rubbing the back of his head and wincing slightly. "Ow… Why does my head hurt?"
"Tama Records…" Kouga breathed in sudden understanding. "So that's where she was from…"
"Huh?" Inuyasha and Miroku said at the same time, shooting their friend identical looks.
"The old hag, Kaede. She's from Tama Records. Now I remember!"
Inuyasha reached over and bopped him on the head.
"That's great, idiot. But we still can't go down to LA, remember? The runt's not legal yet!"
"Well at least now I can call her back and say 'thanks but no thanks. Our drummer is three years too young. Sorry.'" Kouga retorted.
"Wait, LA? Why would we go to LA?" Miroku asked, clearly out of the loop.
"Forget it, Miroku. We're not going to LA," Inuyasha growled, glaring at Kouga's head furiously.
"Um… Okay…" Miroku said uncertainly, glancing down at his watch in an attempt to find a distraction. "Well, it's, like three-thirty. I gotta go and… get some sleep. I've got work in the morning. See ya…"
And with that, Miroku slipped out of the garage and trudged up the stairs to his room to get some sleep. Kouga and Inuyasha glared at each other for a moment before simultaneously turning away and muttering good-byes. They folded up the table and chairs and cleared away their trash before turning off the light and leaving, going their separate ways.
Sure, they might still be mad at each other, but with them, it was always one thing or another. They'd get over it in a few days and then move on to the next argument as if nothing happened. But this was something that could have possibly been an amazing chance to get a head start on the road to fame and fortune. And the fact that they had to turn it down just downright pissed them off. Why did everything always have to happen to them?
E
I don't think I've ever written a chapter this long before… Hm… Whatever. I hope you've enjoyed it so far. All the rest of the chapters will be divided into The Guys (Brand New Breed), The Girls (Common Ground), and Kagome. Well, until they all come together. And I'm not really sure when that'll happen yet. Soon, I think. But don't take my word for it right now. I'm trying something new with this story so… yeah. I know where I want it to go, but I'm basically writing it off the top of my head instead of copying it out of previously written notebooks. But I'm really liking it so far (except having to stop in the middle of a really great brainstorm 'cause someone in my family just needs to use the computer for something else…). Well, until next time, I suppose! – Hope Swings