Holy fuck. I wrote another chapter. Om. My. God. I think that a part of me is dying of shock.And yes. I actually had to read the first ten chapters. One day I will rewrite them and edit them heavily. But Until then! Eleven"I am so disappointed by you all.""Some people say song-writing is a craft! Ha!"So... the first concert was not as awesome and awe inspiring as Dorian and Griffin had hoped it would be. This may have been because their stage and venue were a bunch of picnic tables next to a couple of soccer fields. This may have been because there had been no advertising related to the show. Perhaps because the band didn't have a fixed singer, who was actually willing to sing. This might have been because the poor band had spent the last day or so trapped inside a little tiny car. This might have been because the band only had two songs (Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and the Happy Valley Goose Bay Song. HVGB was a very popular song here.) Maybe because the band had only been assembled for a few days. Or it could have been because Lexus kept looking at his watched every couple of minutes. But Dorian and Griffin, wonderful children that they are, decided to blame the not-success of this concert on each other.By shouting.A lot. "Well if you, MR MANAGER, had thought to plan a little bit further ahead, so that somebody other than the woman who runs the damn consession stand, knew we were coming-""If you, Mr Producer, had thought to see how the band was progressing musically! Tell them to write some songs or something-""Song writing is a long, deep, personal process! I wouldn't rush them on something as important as their craft!"Ginger was nibbling on one of her drum sticks and looking nervously from the bickering Manager/Producer pair to Julian and back. One hand reached to tug nervously on a lock of multicoloured hair. Whisper plunked half heartedly at her keyboard, someting that sounded vaguely like a cross between the legend of Zelda theme and the Imperial March. Julian stood, hands on hips, apron and hair blowing dramatically in the not-entirely-exsistant wind. Lexus looked at his watch, and jumped up."I have to go to the bathroom! In... thirteen seconds. I'll be right back." And he booked it out of there, running like his life depended on it. Julian sighed and massaged his temples, Ginger stood up and tried to be comforting, but he shrugged her off. She looked somewhat put out, but shuffled back to her drums. They sat and looked friendly.***Lexus slammed the door open to the bathroom dramatically and rushed in. "That, kind of frightening woman back at the gas station told me to be here right now. Something important is going to happen. I know it." He looked around. Empty. Damnit. He scowled and looked at his watch. He was late. He had missed it. "Goddamnit."He turned and made to leave.And ran into some..thing. Someone rather. Someone who he knocked over and whose head smacked the sink with an not quite comforting sounding thunk. Someone who shouted "Ow!" upon smacking their head against the previously mentioned sink.Lexus had kncked over a... girl. In the men's washroom. Good job.The girl looked up at him, glaring. He looked back at her, utterly confused. Not knowing where to begin."That hurt, you jerk." She said, glare intesifying. Lexus was trapped, deer in the headlights, by the glare of some little girl in the men's bathroom. Lexus mentally prayed that his death would be short and painless, and that his corpse might be used to warn other poor souls to not accidentally knock over girls who decide to wander into the men's washroom. "You're with that band that performed today, aren't you?" Lexus nodded mutely. The girl used the sink to pull herself up and tenderly poked her head where it had been hit. When she found no blood, she turned to Lexus. "Awesome. Take me with you."That broke Lexus out of his stupor."What? No. You're just some kid! Some kid who can't read bathroom signs! You're as bad as that woman at the gas station! I don't even know you! We're a band, not a summer camp, go home, little girl." She stared at him, but said nothing, and he stormed off. In his hurry he didn't hear the "Little girl?" that followed that outburst.***The 'Little Girl' in question scowled at Lexus's retreating back. She looked at the rest of the band, they had packed up their instruments into the little car and were sitting at a picnic table idly watching the Manager and Producer argue. The trunk was still open.Ashley smiled. "Time to get the hell out of here."Yeah. That's it. Please don't throw rocks at me.
OMGOMG how did I miss this? *reads* *laughs in PURE, UNADULTERATED GLEE*"Little girl." Indeed. *snickers* Also, Ginger nibbles her drumsticks? Awesome.