Sister, I'm Not Much a Poet but a Criminal
Chapter 16
When we left the stadium that night, something was different. There was a small van parked beside the bus, and a man was waiting for us. When we got closer, he approached us.
"Hello, I'm representing a music magazine and I'd like to write an article on you. I've set all of this up with you manager already, and I was hoping we could do an interview tonight."
"Yeah, Brian told us all about it," Gerard replied. "Come on the bus, we'll do it there."
We all went onto the bus and sat down. The man brought out a notebook and tape recorder before sitting down.
"So, we know most of the history of the band already," he began. "But I want our readers to be able to know the guys involved. If you could describe yourselves in one word, what would it be?"
"Umm... wow, that's a new one. I guess I'd say creepy," Gerard laughed.
"Mastermind," Bob smiled.
"Genius," Ray responded.
"Neutral," Mikey winked at me.
"Entertaining," Frank answered, making all of us laugh. "See? Entertaining."
The reporter looked expectantly at Ariella and I, and we stared back, confused.
"What do you girls do for the band?"
"I'm Ray's girlfriend," Ariella sounded cautious.
"And I'm her sister."
"Oh, so you don't really do anything for the tour, then?"
"They do, too!" Frank was defensive, and I gave him a surprised look. "They keep us sane and give us something to live for."
"You mean, without them you'd have nothing to live for?" the reporter was suddenly more interested.
"That's not what I meant. I mean, Molly's a fan, and she helps us by telling us what she thinks of everything. She gives us insight into how other fans are going to recieve our messages."
The reporter turned to me. "So, you tell the band what to do?"
"It's not like that. I just give them my opinion. I don't tell them what to do with it. Hell, I don't even tell them that they have to take it into consideration. I just let them know my thoughts." I was really beginning to hate this guy. He was a nosy asshole.
This interview lasted for quite awhile, and we were all happy to see him drive away.
"What a prick," I muttered.
"Yeah, he definitely wasn't the nicest guy who's ever interviewed us," Gerard admitted. "He focused on the dumbest things we said. He didn't see the bigger picture."
"I didn't like him. I'm kind of scared to see that article," Frank laughed a little.
"Yeah, we'll all come off sounding like assholes," Bob added.
"Me included," I muttered.
"Yeah, what was all that about you controlling us? That guy needs to get his facts straight." Ray sighed and wrapped an arm around Ariella. "I'm tired. Goodnight."
"Night," we all replied as he and Ariella headed for the bunks.
One by one, the others all went to bed until only Frank and I were left. I sat with him on the couch, thinking about the interview.
"It'll be okay," he whispered, as though he had read my thoughts.
"I know, but I don't want people to think that I'm a horrible person."
"Not everybody's going to like you. That's just the way it goes. If an article makes you sound like a jerk, it's up to the reader to decide whether or not they believe it."
"Yeah, I guess."
"I noticed something," he said slowly, trying to decide how to continue.
"Yeah?"
"You said you were her because you were Ariella's sister. You never mentioned me at all."
"It doesn't mean anything, don't worry. I did come here because of her, not you. You're probably the reason I stayed, though. There was a while when I was considering leaving. Don't take it personally. If I'd said I was dating you, I would have had a large, angry group of teenage girls that wanted my blood. I figured since we decided before that we wanted you to live, that you would want the same for me."
"Maybe. It's kind of nice having you alive."
I kissed him and he pulled me close. His breath was inviting on my face, and I kissed him again. After a minute, he pulled back a little.
"I think it's time we went to bed."
I nodded, feeling like I needed the rest desperately. I cuddled up to him and tried not to think about the magazine article, or the trouble it might bring. But apparently my subconscious wouldn't let the subject drop. I dreamt about crowds screaming at me and booing because the article had said that I'd admitted to owning the band. I couldn't understand where the reporter had gotten that out of what I'd said to him, but somehow he had. And it had made me one of the most hate people in the country.
"Hello, I'm representing a music magazine and I'd like to write an article on you. I've set all of this up with you manager already, and I was hoping we could do an interview tonight."
"Yeah, Brian told us all about it," Gerard replied. "Come on the bus, we'll do it there."
We all went onto the bus and sat down. The man brought out a notebook and tape recorder before sitting down.
"So, we know most of the history of the band already," he began. "But I want our readers to be able to know the guys involved. If you could describe yourselves in one word, what would it be?"
"Umm... wow, that's a new one. I guess I'd say creepy," Gerard laughed.
"Mastermind," Bob smiled.
"Genius," Ray responded.
"Neutral," Mikey winked at me.
"Entertaining," Frank answered, making all of us laugh. "See? Entertaining."
The reporter looked expectantly at Ariella and I, and we stared back, confused.
"What do you girls do for the band?"
"I'm Ray's girlfriend," Ariella sounded cautious.
"And I'm her sister."
"Oh, so you don't really do anything for the tour, then?"
"They do, too!" Frank was defensive, and I gave him a surprised look. "They keep us sane and give us something to live for."
"You mean, without them you'd have nothing to live for?" the reporter was suddenly more interested.
"That's not what I meant. I mean, Molly's a fan, and she helps us by telling us what she thinks of everything. She gives us insight into how other fans are going to recieve our messages."
The reporter turned to me. "So, you tell the band what to do?"
"It's not like that. I just give them my opinion. I don't tell them what to do with it. Hell, I don't even tell them that they have to take it into consideration. I just let them know my thoughts." I was really beginning to hate this guy. He was a nosy asshole.
This interview lasted for quite awhile, and we were all happy to see him drive away.
"What a prick," I muttered.
"Yeah, he definitely wasn't the nicest guy who's ever interviewed us," Gerard admitted. "He focused on the dumbest things we said. He didn't see the bigger picture."
"I didn't like him. I'm kind of scared to see that article," Frank laughed a little.
"Yeah, we'll all come off sounding like assholes," Bob added.
"Me included," I muttered.
"Yeah, what was all that about you controlling us? That guy needs to get his facts straight." Ray sighed and wrapped an arm around Ariella. "I'm tired. Goodnight."
"Night," we all replied as he and Ariella headed for the bunks.
One by one, the others all went to bed until only Frank and I were left. I sat with him on the couch, thinking about the interview.
"It'll be okay," he whispered, as though he had read my thoughts.
"I know, but I don't want people to think that I'm a horrible person."
"Not everybody's going to like you. That's just the way it goes. If an article makes you sound like a jerk, it's up to the reader to decide whether or not they believe it."
"Yeah, I guess."
"I noticed something," he said slowly, trying to decide how to continue.
"Yeah?"
"You said you were her because you were Ariella's sister. You never mentioned me at all."
"It doesn't mean anything, don't worry. I did come here because of her, not you. You're probably the reason I stayed, though. There was a while when I was considering leaving. Don't take it personally. If I'd said I was dating you, I would have had a large, angry group of teenage girls that wanted my blood. I figured since we decided before that we wanted you to live, that you would want the same for me."
"Maybe. It's kind of nice having you alive."
I kissed him and he pulled me close. His breath was inviting on my face, and I kissed him again. After a minute, he pulled back a little.
"I think it's time we went to bed."
I nodded, feeling like I needed the rest desperately. I cuddled up to him and tried not to think about the magazine article, or the trouble it might bring. But apparently my subconscious wouldn't let the subject drop. I dreamt about crowds screaming at me and booing because the article had said that I'd admitted to owning the band. I couldn't understand where the reporter had gotten that out of what I'd said to him, but somehow he had. And it had made me one of the most hate people in the country.