Seven Good Reasons Not to Go to New York

Their house was huge. It was double Amy’s house plus some. When they arrived, she was shown to the guest room. The room was gigantic. There was a sitting area with a TV, a couch and two chairs, all snow white with deep blue pillows. A huge king-sized bed matched the couch and chairs. Even the walls matched the color scheme; white on top with a stained wood base line just about waist line height and the same dark blue as on the pillows on the bottom. The bed was up two steps in the middle of a rounded space behind the sitting room. Huge windows were behind it revealing a perfect beach view. There were doors on either side of the bedroom. To the right was the bathroom, equipped with a Jacuzzi, a separate shower, a little room for the toilet and a huge sink with cupboards all over. All were covered with white marble or wood painted white.

Amy had chosen to only use the shower. She had found little shampoos and soaps just like her hotel’s waiting for her at the sink. When she had finished cleaning herself, she had made her way across to the other door where a mammoth walk-in closet waited for her. There were all different kinds of cloths, from business suits to dresses to jeans. Amy chose an orange tee-shirt with a drum set on it. She thought it was cool and also that the guys might like it. She smiled when she thought of them as ‘the guys’ wondering if she’d ever be close enough to really call them that. She pulled on some jeans and walked into the extremely white room.

She wished she had her hair gel with her so she could make her hair look nice. She left it down for the time being, figuring she could tie it up after it dried a little more.

Once she was all done she peeked out the big white doors into the hallway that she had originally entered from. The hall way was even expertly done. It had light yellow painted walls with the same waist high base line. Underneath was a browner yellow. The small tables were dark, stained wood with glass pots holding sunflowers on top of them. There were various paintings of fruits, sunflowers, and some fall landscapes. Amy felt like she was in a nice hotel, nicer than the one she was staying at.

She ventured out into the hall and crept through the home. She made sure to be as quiet as possible, not for any reason other than it was so quite already she didn’t want to make a ruckus in such a nice place. She was nervous that her footsteps made such a loud echo as she walked through the house. She looked around, not knowing what to do with herself. She wasn’t sure if she should wait in the guest room for someone to come get her or try and find someone to tell them she was done.

As she walked down the hall, she noticed many closed doors. She came by one that was slightly ajar and peeked in, curious about what else this house could have. Inside was a dark room with black lights hanging above six big bean bag chairs which sat in front of a big flat screen TV. Amy went in to get a better look. The room had stars and planets on the black walls that glowed from the black light. There were small speakers hanging in the corners with wires running to the television neatly. She walked over to the TV to find that it was surrounded by cabinets that blended into the walls around them. The knobs were the only thing that gave them away because they were round and shiny, reflecting the black light instead of glowing from it.

Amy reached out to open one of the cabinets and gasped. Inside was every gaming system she could think of; Nintendo, Xbox, and Play Stations alike all neatly placed with their wires disappearing into holes in the back most likely to connect to the TV. The appropriate controllers lay in front of their systems, wires wrapped up waiting to play. She looked in amazement wondering how these people could afford all this. She closed the door and greedily looked into the next cabinet on the other side of the TV. Inside were big wire racks filled with games for all the systems. It was organized from by system then in alphabetical order. ‘Neat freaks.’ Amy thought glancing over the names of the games. They had all the popular games (Mario, Kingdom Hearts…) and even more she had never heard of.

She closed the door shaking her head. How many games could one family need? She started walking out when her foot hit something. She looked down to find a Guitar Hero guitar, glowing in the light due to its mostly white color. She picked it up looking at the stickers someone had placed around it. They were different guitars (‘Appropriate’ Amy thought) and some other instruments like drums, some basses and microphones but the guitars dominated the surface.

As she was looking at it she accidentally hit a button and a guitar rift echoed across the room. She jumped and looked around wide eyed. The speakers were well placed to make the sound real and surprising. Amy turned around and pressed the power button on the TV. Someone had been playing Guitar Hero III and left it on. It was still on the menu screen so Amy swung the strap around her, clicked ‘Quick Play,’ and started looking through songs to play. After looking at a couple and listening to the ones she didn’t know, she settled on “Minority” by Green Day. She had only played a couple of times before so she chose easy and hoped she wouldn’t lose like she typically did.

The song started playing, the music filling the room and making it feel like a real concert. Amy started concentrating. Her fingers felt awkward. At home, she had her own guitar. She had taken lessons for years and was a reasonably good player. But that made Guitar Hero a bigger challenge; her fingers wanted to play the cords not press buttons. She felt her eyebrows furrow as she tried to keep in rhythm. She was concentrating so hard on the ‘notes’ that she didn’t hear the door open.

She was only a fourth of the way done and was sure she had missed at least every third note. She bit her lip and tried harder to keep the flow.

“So, you like Green Day?” A voice suddenly said right next to her and she jumped. The music was left to the small background beat and Amy quickly began playing in order to stop that horrible sound. She looked through the corners of her eyes to find Ryan smiling and watching the screen. He had a black, hard guitar case in his hand and was looking at the mostly missed notes with an air of amusement. Amy couldn’t help but notice how great he looked even in the darkness and her eyes wondered down to his chest where his shirt glowed under the black light. She would have looked a little longer but the crowd started booing and she quickly turned her eyes to focus on the game.

“Yeah,” She said quietly.

“Me too,” Ryan started unzipping his guitar case and pulled out a nice Stratocaster. It was black around the edges of the body and faded into a grainy, natural-looking brown. It was in excellent shape, someone must take great care of it. He took out a wire and bent down to open a cabinet that Amy hadn’t noticed before. Inside was a small amp that he turned on and plugged his guitar into. Amy had to fight the urge not to watch him move, trying instead to focus on the game which wasn’t going to well. In the corners of her eyes, she saw Ryan’s strong arms holding the guitar, she saw his soft-looking hair stay perfectly in place as he moved, and saw his warm smile dominate his face always. When he was done working the amp he stood up again and turned to Amy.

Suddenly nervous, Amy started to concentrate again on the game. She tried her best to hit every note, and was doing pretty well until a new sound filled the room. Next to her, Ryan began playing along with the game. He played wonderfully, not missing a note even when Amy didn’t hit one. The cords were clear and précis; his fingers jumped from fret to fret with ease, he wasn’t looking at them at all. The whole time he was smiling at Amy, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Amy couldn’t hold back her smile. Her teeth showed through her lips she smiled so big. Her eyes darted from the screen to Ryan’s guitar, not sure which she really wanted to watch. She felt herself start to lean towards Ryan, her eyes hovering over his fingers more often than the game. He played so effortlessly, with so much feeling and enjoyment in the song. His fingers were fast but relaxed and the guitar sang the cords with a whole sound even with the fast changes.

Soon enough, Amy wasn’t looking at the screen at all. Her fingers hit random buttons on her guitar, the notes on the surround sound came out garbled and the crowed began booing. Amy ignored it listening to Ryan play instead. After a minute, the song was failed and she simply relaxed her hands, still holding the guitar but her fingers had given up. When the game stopped singing, Ryan picked up the lyrics. His voice was as golden as his fingers. Amy brought her eyes up to his face. He still had his smile on but his eyes were soft and sweet. Amy noticed that he even sang the song sweeter then it was normally sung. He found a way of making the rebellious lyrics sound loving and like they were written just for her in this moment.

His voice was so pure that Amy found herself completely absorbed in the song. She listened intently, looking into Ryan’s eyes as if searching for the hidden meaning. She was surprised, when the song ended, to find that she was leaning forward, towards him. She stumbled backwards and Ryan laughed as she blushed.

“Wow, you’re really good.” Amy said with a nervous smile.

Ryan chuckled making Amy’s arms prickle with goose bumps.

“I hope so! If I wasn’t then we would never make it as a band!” Ryan laughed again and Amy joined in.

“So, would you like a tour?” Ryan asked cocking his head again. Amy couldn’t get over how cute it was.

“Yeah, I’d love it.”

They spent the next hour and a half roaming the house. Each room was more extravagant then the last, each one had its own color scheme, and looked like a professional had designed. There were paintings and fine china everywhere. Amy felt her eyes get bigger each time until she finally got used to the place. She still found it incredible, but with all the rooms so nice, it wasn’t hard to take in anymore. The kitchen was modern and chrome, the living room was old fashion and bright. There was an office with books completely lining the walls and an indoor pool with aquariums in the walls and another view of the beach, which they privately owned. They even had a home theater that looked like any movie theater (only few and comfier chairs) equipped with snacks, popcorn and soda and not to mention their rock climbing wall in their workout room. Each room was incredible and unimaginable in its own way.

After wondering around the house, laughing and chatting and maybe a little flirting on the way, Ryan took Amy to the room she most wanted to see, his own.

“Ready?” Ryan said, smiling the smile Amy had come to enjoy so much.

“Yeah.” Amy smiled excitedly, her eyes never leaving his.

“You sure.”

“Come on.” Amy pushed his shoulder jokingly, taking note of how strong his natural resistance was.

“Can I have a drum role?” Ryan teased.

“Oh my god, Ryan! You’re awful!” Amy complained. Ryan laughed and opened his door, motioning for her to come in first. Amy quickly peeked in. What she saw excited her more than any other room in the house. There were guitars everywhere, literally. Where there wasn’t an actually guitar, hanging from the wall by a wood shelf that cupped the bottom of the body and a wood hook that clasp the neck, there was a poster of one or of chords or of bands that Amy liked. He seemed to have the same spread out tastes as she had, with posters of the Rolling Stones and the Beatles to more recent things like Green Day and My Chemical Romance.

He had a metal desk, painted dark green, with a billboard behind it and a bed on top. It was set up like a bunk bed minus the bottom bunk. A deep red rug lay on top of hard wood floor, the rug hiding most of it. Unlike the other neat and tidy rooms in the house, his was covered by clothes, scraps of paper, and food wrappers. Also on the rug were two big blue bean bag chairs much like the ones in the game room. His walls, at least what could be seen under the posers and guitars, were the same color as the bean bags.

“Wow.” Amy said, stunned for what she felt like was the millionth time that day.

Ryan walked across the room, working around clothing and trash, to a smaller, older looking acoustic guitar. “This was my first guitar. I didn’t know how to take care of one when I was a kid so it’s not too pretty now.

“This one is signed by all of the Rolling Stones. It was a present from my Dad for my 14th birthday.” He said pointing to a Les Paul.

“Nice gift.” Amy said, amazed and a little jealous.

“Oh yeah.” Ryan said eyeing the instrument with admiration.

“Now this one,” He moved to a blue Starcaster with a couple gashes in it. “was the guitar I use in my first concert, when I was thirteen. But it broke a little less than a year ago, the neck started to buckle. I retired it before it could break off.”

He plopped down on a bean bag and offered the other one to Amy. She tried to look sophisticated while sitting down but the bag made it hard to sit down nicely.

“Wow, I wish I could be as lucky as you guys.” She looked around with wide eyes.

“What, the house? I guess-”

“No. The band. I wish I could play in one.”

“Ah.” Ryan said looking around his room like Amy was as if seeing it for the first time. “Yeah, it’s nice. So, you’re a drummer?”

“What? No. I play guitar.” Ryan turned his head and cocked it to the side, looking straight into Amy’s eyes as if there wasn’t anything in the world more important. Amy felt a warmth flood her body. “Why’d you think I played drums?”

“Well, your shirt choice. I figured you were a rhythm feeler.”

“Nope I’m a… a cord strummer?” Amy said trying to pick a fun nickname like he had. He smiled and turned to look around his room again.

“Good thing you’re not a drummer. Judging by that game of Guitar Hero, you need a hero to help you find a beat!” Ryan laughed as Amy looked at him in disbelieve and embarrassment.
Suddenly the door slammed open.

“Well, well, well! What do we have here?” Andi jumped in with a mischievous smile and a raised eyebrow. He looked between the two and his eyes glistened with excitement and a bad idea. Behind him John peeked in, a little nervous to be intruding but staying with Andi.

“Get out of here, egg-head!” Ryan yelled picking up a sock ball and chucking it at his brother, who easily dodged it.

“Egg-head. Funny. So funny I forgot to laugh. Anyway, Toby wants to practice and me n’ John are in, so you are too. Don’t worry, you can bring your girlfriend.” Andi gave Amy a wink before dashing out of the room John on his heels.

“She’s not my…! Ugg, sorry. Andi’s… a pain in the ass. But if you’d like to watch us rehearse, you welcome too. Did I show you the band room?” Ryan had a slight red color in his cheeks but he still acted as cool as ever, giving Amy the same look of importance that he had given her earlier.

“No, I didn’t see that room. I wasn’t aware this house could hold any more rooms. And I’d love to see you guys play.” Amy smiled back, excited to see the band.

Ryan got up and held his hand out for Amy, who grabbed it and let him pull her up.

“Come on.” He said, not letting her hand go, pulling her through the doors and down the hall.