Hey!
IMPORTANT NOTE: So, I know I always start off with a song lyric, whatever. But I highly recommend listening to the songs the band plays later on in the chapter. They're great and if you don't know them, they help in getting the scene across. The first is "If You Want Blood" by ACDC and the second in "Cherry Bomb" by the Runaways.
ALSO A MASSIVE THANKS TO THOSE WHO ARE REIVIEWING. I'll probably list you guys off next chapter but know that I still love you. u_u
I don't own SNK or any of the songs, and I hope you enjoy it! ^_^
Five: Rock and Roll
"The kids are all hoped up and ready to go now, they're ready to go now."
"H-how do I look?"
Eren rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Better than usual, I guess. Ow." He rubbed at the spot on his arm where Mikasa had elbowed him.
"Mikasa?" Armin inquired, hoping for a good response.
She offered him a soft smile. You look...rock and roll, Armin."
The blonde couldn't bite back his smile.
Eren had passed their last test with flying colors. Something about the way Armin taught- wether it was the method or how he explained things, neither Mikasa nor Eren were sure- clicked with Eren and his less-than-enthused brain. Whatever the case was, though, they were celebrating. It was a Friday night and, after two weeks of constant invitation, Armin had finally relented and agreed to accompany his fast friends to a place called the '104.'
And so they sat in his bedroom, the place that had once been his grandfather's study, when his grandfather required a study, preparing to celebrate a job well done.
Armin examined himself in the mirror. He had refused to take Eren's band shirt. It had been too filthy and to large to sit well with Armin, so he insisted on wearing a white button up. When he had tried to don a vest, Eren put his foot down. "They would take your vest off and eat it," he had advised. "Got anything black?" And so he was wearing an old military jacket from the bowels of his grandpa's attic, his oldest, unwashed jeans, and black boots. The boots, Eren had informed, were important.
"I'm ready," Armin nodded.
The three bid his grandfather farewell on their way out.
"Don't get into any trouble, grandson!" he had shouted with a smile and a wink as they pushed through the front door.
"We won't!" Armin promised, waving.
They had to walk to the bus stop; neither Mikasa nor Eren had a car to drive, just like Armin.
Armin had learned that Eren and Mikasa led complicated lives. Mikasa's parents, like his, were dead. She had grown up in the next city over, and her parents had been killed by traffickers. Apparently, it was a big problem where she had come form. Eren's family, had taken her in. It didn't take long for people to dig up Mikasa's past; they were eight years old when they took her in, but the truth came about when they were thirteen. Middle school, when kids were at their cruelest. But nobody messed around with her for it; after Mikasa had nearly beat some poor bully to a pulp, they had all learned their lesson.
But they lived alone. Not long ago, Eren's mother passed away and his father disappeared in the dead of night, no warning. Fortunately, both had access to the family's money. They rented an apartment and have been living there since they were sixteen.
The bus took them into the bustling part of the city.
Armin pressed his face to the glass, admiring the lights of the buildings as they created their own starry night overhead.
"Hooker, ten o'clock," Eren announced, pointing out a boney woman with sunken eyes and tight clothing.
"There are prostitutes here?" Armin asked. The word 'hooker' didn't taste right. It befouled his tongue.
"They're everywhere, man. We've got loads of them. Watch yourself if you're walking around at night. They'll bug the shit out of you," Eren said.
"Oh."
They hopped off the bus in front of a place that was once a movie theater, but had been renovated into something far less...family friendly. The marquee sign at the door had the number "104" bolstered at the front. The movie poster cases were filled with promotional cards and posters for bands, dating back to the nineties.
"This place is so..." Armin trailed off, admiring their surroundings.
"Keep your head in the game, man," Eren encouraged, ruffling the blonde's hair.
They passed a line of chain smokers dressed in leather and studs, and Armin quickly averted his eyes.
"Armin," Mikasa beckoned. "Don't worry. There's nothing to fear here. They won't pick on you unless you give them a reason to."
Armin shot her a gracious smile. He was instantly reassured.
The 104 had a history. A history of violence, of drugs, of sex and money and music. It was a delinquent's safe haven, it was a breeding ground for crime and adrenaline. The place was much larger than Armin had anticipated. The floor was massive, concrete with the ugly patterned theater carpet long since stripped away. A bar stretched across the wall, with enough booze to get every one of the hundred patrons black-out drunk and then some. A stage had been erected, set for bands to play their heart out.
"This place is amazing," Armin gawked.
"Pretty slick, huh?" Eren boasted pridefully.
"Pretty rock and roll," Armin laughed.
Eren punched him in the arm. "You got it! You got it! Hah! Come on, man! There's people to meet, beer to drink." After being led to the bar, Eren wagged his finger. "Wait here alright? I'll bring some back for us."
"Okay."
As Eren disappeared, Armin gaped at his surroundings. It was busy, it was chaotic. It was building up to something he couldn't imagine. The buzzing of chatter and laughter and argument melded into one sound. White lights flashed overhead. They're not strobe lights, he pointed out, head tipped back to admire the ceiling. Maybe they're just faulty. People around him swirled, one big chaotic pot of teenagers and young adults. Smoke from cigarettes crawled up his nose, mingling with the scent of alcohol, perfume, sweat, and anticipation. It all made him a bit dizzy.
A massive click shook his eardrums. The lights dimmed to almost nothing. Only the glow of the illuminated stage gave him somewhere to go, some sort of beacon. Slowly, like a moth drawn to the light, he abandoned his post waiting for Eren, and slipped between the throngs of people. The stage disappeared for a moment; he wasn't the tallest person there, that was for sure. Out of the corner of his eye, as he drew closer, he spotted people from school. Students that had pushed and laughed, branded him "new meat."
He tensed up. Fight or flight.
He locked eyes with two of them, some couple from his trigonometry class.
Flight. Definitely flight.
He poised to run.
They merely smiled mischievous smiles and waved they bottles at him.
Armin stood dumb a moment before flicking his hands in relief, in recognition.
"Oi!" The call of a low-toned woman echoed through the room.
She was tanned and tall, strong hands holding a microphone. Her hair was an odd color, obviously not natural, dark brown and red, pulled into a ponytail.
She adjusted the glasses on her face. "Well, well, well," she mused, giggling deep from her throat. "We've got quite the turn out this fine Friday night. How many of you are finally fucking free from schoolwork tonight?"
A large cheer sounded.
"And how many of you are finally fucking free from working tonight?"
An even louder scream from the crowd.
Armin smiled at the woman. He felt electrically charged.
She tossed her head back, laughing into the mic. "I'm so glad you guys came by tonight. It's...seventy degrees outside and it's a beautiful night for chaos, for intensity and insanity." She walked along the line of the stage, her red leather boots squeaking with each step. "About time to get down to brass tacks...whatever the hell that means. I know you babies are aching..."
For a moment, Armin locked eyes with the woman. She gave a wild smile.
"Oi, Hanji, get the hell on with it!"
The woman laughed at the stray command as people clapped. "What? You getting sick and tired of me already?"
A hoard of "yes's" rounded the room.
She pouted. "I'm disappointed in all of you." Hanji laughed, bending down and plucking a metal beer can out of someone's hand. Taking a long chug, she shouted, incoherent sounds pouring into the mic as she crushed the can in her hands and tossed it into the audience. "Are you bitches ready?!"
The sound of approval could have shattered Armin's eardrums.
Hanji laughed. "Alright!" Letting the mic sit in its holder, she took a simple step back before kicking it over, feedback screeching, people cheering.
"Hey, man, there you are!"
A wild arm hung around Armin's neck, making the boy jump.
"Wha-?"
"Here!" Eren laughed, shoving a beer bottle into the boy's hands. "Drink up. Can't believe you fucking left without me!"
"How'd you get this?" Armin asked, eyes frantically searching for the "non-alcoholic" label. He found none.
"Please," Eren dismissed. "Nobody card's here. Cops know better than to try and bust this place, anyway. They got their feet in here, too, you know. Fucking chief of police loves it here."
"R-really?"
"Yep. Shows up every Saturday night. He's friends with the owner."
Armin twitched. Such...lack of responsibility... "Who's the owner?" he muttered under his breath.
"Ah, some little prick named Levi," Eren shrugged. "Not a bad guy. Just some punk who makes too many poop jokes."
"Huh."
Armin watched, bottle untouched in his hands, as a few people slowly put themselves together on stage. They had appeared like lightning. Armin never saw them step on stage. They were suddenly there. Like a vision. Two men and a woman.
One was blonde and too muscular for his own good. He looked like a body builder on his night off. A tattoo of a coat of arms rested on the blonde's straining neck as he idly fiddled with the bass in his hands.
The second man was tall and lean, athletic looking. Brown hair and a tanner face than the other two. He spun the drumsticks around in his fingers a few times, experimentally tapping the tops of his drums.
The woman.
Armin gulped.
She was beautiful. Her eyes were icy, were piercing and uncaring. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun at the back of her head. Her hands plucked the strings of her white guitar, moving quicker than he could keep track of, but making no sound. She said something to the bass player. He nodded. She turned and plugged the guitar into the amp.
"Jesus, these three," Eren said, half sighing, half laughing.
"...These three?"
"Yeah, these three. They go to school with us. The drummer's in my gym class."
"Really?"
"Yeah. They usually duck out of classes but." Eren shrugged, taking a swig from his bottle. "Different strokes for different folks, you know?"
"Yeah." Armin examined them, watched them move. Watched the girl crack her fingers, each covered in a varying number of plain rings. "What're their names?"
"Ah, let's see," the brunette drew. "Drummer's name is Bert. I don't know. I think that's short for something. Berthold maybe. That sounds right. And then the blonde dude's name is Reiner. And she's Annie."
"Annie?"
"Yeah."
Armin nodded to himself.
"And these bitches change band names, like, every goddamn week. New name, every time I see them," Eren snickered. "I wonder what they're calling themselves this week."
"Yeah..."
"Are you ready?" Reiner asked, breathing into the mic. Anticipation rippled through the crowd.
Bert wailed against the drums, Annie's fingers dancing along the strings of her guitar. Slowly, her head began to bob as she played her introduction alone, the drums interrupting periodically. Reiner's hands grabbed at the strings of his bass, his body moving closer to the microphone.
"It's criminal; there ought to be a law.
Criminal! There ought to be a whole lot more.
You get nothing for nothing, tell me who can you trust?
We got what you want and you got the lust."
Eren bumped into Armin, causing the boy to spill beer from his bottle. He had been in a trance, watching them preform like that.
Annie's lips parted.
Eren pushed Armin's arm, the bottle's lips making contact with his own.
He took a sip.
"If you want blood! You got it!"
All the band members shouted, no microphones needed.
"If you want blood! You got it!
Blood on the streets! Blood on the rocks! Blood in the gutter! Every last drop!
You want blood, you got it!"
Armin took another swig, letting his body get thrown about by Eren and a handful of others, their bodies careening and colliding.
Annie grit her teeth, watching her fingers roam over the metal in her hands.
Reiner's foot stomped wildly in tune with the music being played
"It's animal, living in a human zoo.
Animal, the shit they toss to you.
Feeling like a Christian. Locked in a cage.
Thrown to the lions on the second page."
Armin opened his mouth and laughed. Laughed and screamed like he never had before. The feeling was foreign. The adrenaline rushed.
"If you want blood! You got it!
If you want blood! You got it!"
The crowd joined in this time, the words already seared into their memory.
"Blood in the streets! Blood on the rocks! Blood in the gutter! Every last drop!"
Reiner took control.
"You want blood!"
The crowd challenged him.
"You got it!"
Arms flung over heads, bodies crashed, sweat poured and fingers delivered their ministrations.
Annie played with a wild immortality; the moment wouldn't die and neither would she. Her music and movements were immortalized in the brain of a seventeen-year-old boy in the crowd.
Reiner grunted into the microphone, the lights catching the dog tags that sat around his neck.
Bert's arms moved so quickly, they were just blurs, like the spinning blades of a fan.
Reiner screamed.
"Blood on the rocks!
Blood on the streets!
Blood in the sky!
Blood on the sheets!
If you want blood!"
The music ceased for a millisecond, Reiner's voice hanging, haunting and hot.
"You got it!"
Annie played, Bert banged.
Reiner dropped to one knee, his bass pushed behind his back. He reached out into the surging crowd beneath him. A girl grabbed onto his wrist, her mouth taking in one of his fingers.
"I want you to bleed for me."
The music came a to final fall, like a plane crashing and erupting into a beautiful fire.
Everyone screamed, everyone cheered and clapped, whistles cutting through the air.
Reiner chuckled to himself, gripping the mic a bit tighter.
"Now we got a special something for ya," he began, voice lower than the song alluded to. "Our own little Lion Heart's been working on something for quite some time now." He exchanged a look with her, though her face betrayed nothing but diminishing power and boredom. He quirked his eyebrow, a crooked smile on his face. "Interested?"
The 104 lost its mind.
Reiner laughed.
Armin's hands clapped against one another so hard, he thought he had broken his bones. Eren placed two fingers in his mouth, whistling. It reminded Armin of a simpler time. Of childhood.
He nodded his head for Annie to come closer, and he took a step out of the way. She adjusted the microphone to reach her mouth; she was much shorter than the lead singer.
A few people giggled.
"No making fun of me," she warned lightly, her voice bored, calculating. Like she was a cat playing with easy prey. It made Armin's head swim.
The music started. Her hips swayed a bit. Heads bobbed around Armin. He was captivated.
Dark jeans, black boots, a red graphic t-shirt with the collar ripped by her own hands. Bracelets ran up each wrist. Her light eyes piercing through the curtain of light that engulfed the stage.
"Cant' stay at home, can't stay at school,
Old folks say, you poor little fool.
Down the street, I'm the girl next door. I'm the fox you've been waiting for.
Hello Daddy, Hello Mom,
I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!"
Reaching into her hair, she ripped the hair tie from her locks, the blonde falling to her shoulders in a tousled mess.
"Hello world, I'm your wild girl,
I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!
Stone age love and strange sounds too,
Come on baby let me get to you.
Bad nights causin' teenage blues,
Get down ladies, you've got nothing to lose!"
Her hips gyrated against her guitar, lips brushing the microphone as she sang into it.
Bodies ground against one another. It wasn't the electric charge Armin had felt before. It was a stirring. It was a hazy thickness that wrapped around his brain, around everyone's brains. It didn't make him want to thrash. It made him want...he wasn't sure, actually.
"Hello Daddy, Hello Mom,
I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!
Hello world, I'm your wild girl,
I'm you ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!"
Her fingers tore through her instrument, inciting whoops of approval.
She moaned, sounds of ecstasy bouncing off the walls of the 104.
"Hello Daddy, Hello Mom,
I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!
Hello world, I'm your wild girl,
I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!"
The beat remained steady, her voice descending into boughts of well-placed moans and groans.
"Hey street boy, what's your style?
Your dead end dreams don't make you smile."
She took a step forward, her razor sharp eyes peeling through the veil of light. They swept over the crowd. The grunge. The filth.
They stopped on Armin. He didn't flinch. He didn't look away.
"I'll give you something to live for,
Have you and grab you until your sore!"
She rolled her eyes, rolled her head, punching the strings of her guitar. Her body moved with intention.
"Hello Daddy, Hello Mom,
I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!
Hello world, I'm your wild girl,
I'm your ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-ch-cherry bomb!
Cherry bomb!
Cherry bomb!
Cherry bomb!
Cherry bomb!
Cherry bomb!"
Her voice faded into a state of non-exisistance, reverberating in Armin's head.
They all cheered, the taunting smile gone from Annie's face.
What'd you think? Opinions? Idea-rs? Let me know. ^_^
Peace, L.