Live without Warning

The wind began picking up as I was approaching my home. It was a semi-detached house that was located just behind a park. The area was full of semi-detached and town houses. I liked the setup of the small neighborhood; there was no roads or cars, just trails. There was a parking lot for people who lived on residence to park their cars, than you have to walk through the park and small trails to get to your house. I thought it was better this way; more peaceful.

I wasn't planning on living in California forever. Actually, my home was rented and I was on a contract to only live in the home for a year. When my education was finished and the contract was over with, I would move back to my hometown in Canada.

I was pulling out my keys to get inside my house when Jasper - my neighbor who's home was connected to mine - came outside. He had short curly, dirty blond hair; he was pale and kind of stiff looking. I had already made friends with him. I named my dog after him, because when I bought Jasper, he paid for half because I didn't have enough money. I thought I could thank him by naming my dog after him.

"Hey Jasper, how's it going?" I asked pleasantly as I opened my front door and let Jasper - my dog - inside.

He shrugged, "Not bad. I had my friends over, but they just left. Yourself?"

Oh nothing, but I did randomly ran into Tre Cool in an abandoned forest.

I shook my head, "Just got back from a run; Jasper ran off from me into a forest, but I eventually found him," I half smiled. There was no point telling him about my run-in with Tre. After all, I see rock stars on-and-off all the time, it's really nothing new... except for the forest part and the conversation between the two of us.

He laughed lightly, "Good thing you found him. I wouldn't want my money going to waste."

I smiled and laughed sarcastically. "Anyway, I'll see you around."

"Bye," he waved.

I walked into my house.

*****

"And your name, please?" I asked the beach blond standing in front of my desk. I was getting fed up with dealing with these girls.

She paused and stared at me with her big eyes, as if she was a deer trapped in the headlights. She ignored the question, "So is Fall Out Boy recording?" she asked nervously, biting down on her lip.

I answered her bluntly, "Fall Out Boy was scheduled to come in for the next few months, but they changed the record label they were going to record with a few days ago. But if you're going to ask: no, I don't know where they are now, and there are not any rock stars in the studio at the moment and there isn't any scheduled to come in." Just the way she stared at me made me fed up with my job.

"Oh..." she mouthed slowly, "I guess I'll just leave then."

With that said, she had left. I tried to forget her face, because she was not important to me or the studio.

I groaned; almost everyday I'm surrounded by the same four walls. I really shouldn't complain; it was a nice studio. I mostly spent my time in the main lobby where my desk was located; there were big windows where the front door was located, two leather sofas facing each other with a coffee table in the middle which was in the center of the room, and there was a television on a stand that was connected to the wall on the corner of the farthest wall. The walls were a beige color and there were pictures on the walls of past musicians that have recorded here.

I tried to get refocused on ordering new equipment for the studio. I looked back at the computer screen and went back to work.

Scott, my oldest brother who owned the studio and did almost everything in the business, walked out from the hallway connected to the main lobby. He looked like me, just a male version of me, his hair was lighter than mine and his face was a bit longer, but you could tell we were related.

"Autumn, we have a band coming in next week. I just got off the phone with the singer of the band and he and his band are trying to write 'the biggest album of the century'. At least, that's what he said," he told me enthusiastically. I would think owning and managing a big business would be stressful, however, Scott has a good way of covering up his stress. Oh, and did I mention he can write music too, and musicals ask him to help them when recording?

I pulled out my scheduling book and a pen, "Who are they?" I asked, getting ready to print down the name and the dates and times.

He smiled, "Do you recall a classic band we use to listen to named Green Day?"

I looked up at the man who had stopped my dog from running; he was mumbling and mocking sarcastically to himself that it was hard to tell if he realized I was there. However, once I studied his face and his voice a little more, I realized I had run into the drummer from Green Day. How odd to run into him in the middle of an abandoned forest.

My eyes went wide and my heart skipped as I heard him mention the band. Right when he said it, that flashback of Tre in the woods went by in my head in just seconds.

I looked back up at Scott with my eyes still kind of big. However, when I started thinking of the attitudes and personalities of musicians that have come to record at the studio, my excitement started to decrease. I didn't want to know that the three men that have brought out such great music and respect were actually arrogant, rude, and egotistic jerks. Sure, I did meet and talk to Tre Cool, but it was only one encounter; no one can tell who a person actually is from one conversation.

I kept the smile on my face as I thought, then I remembered Scott. I looked back at him, "That's so exciting."

He looked satisfied with my smile and answer, "So write down Green Day will be in next week - Monday, June 28th -, sometime during the early afternoon. Schedule them for the next six months. We might need to extend the recording time depending on the album."

I wrote down everything as he said it, "No problem." I stared at the name, Green Day, for a few seconds as I considered how the next six months would go.