Regrets From the Past
Chapter 1
Billie.
"Hey Bill, have you got the keys?"
"What? Oh, yeah." I fumbled around in my pockets, gently placing the guitar I was holding down on the kerb beside me. Chucking the keys to Mike, I paitently waited for my friend to unlock Al's battered van.
It was the early months of 1989. 924 Gilman, as always, was full of young punk-rockers edging to see a great show. But best of all, me, Mike and Sweet Children were the show. We were the ones rocking out on stage, being the band people were cheering for an encore. Best of all, it was our first time - and we'd gotten a welcoming reception.
Still in a state of awe at what we has just accomplished, my reaction to the sound of a strange voice behind me was a little delayed.
"Erm... Billie, is it?"
I turned around to where the source of the unfamiliar sound was located. And it was there that I first laid eyes on her. She was of medium height and thin, dressed in tattered jeans and a slightly faded Sex Pistols shirt. Her soft brown eyes peered from behind a thin curtain of light brown hair. I could tell she was studying me much like I was to her.
Shaking my head slightly, I forced myself to focus. "Uh, yeah... yeah, it is."
She smiled. "I just wanted to tell you that the show was great." She held out her hand. "I'm Erica, by the way."
I immediately took her hand. I tried not to think about how perfectly it fitted into mine. "Nice to meet you. Oh - um, that's Mike." I gave a quick nod in the direction of where Mike was, behind the van packing in the equipment.
I turned back to face Erica. "So, would you like a drink? I mean, they don't have alcohol or anything, but I could buy you a soda, they're pretty good..." Figuring I was just blabbering on now, I chose to let my words fade into the warm air between us. What was I, ten?
Thankfully, Erica didn't seem to notice. "That'd be nice." She smiled, falling into step beside me as we headed back inside.
The Gilman. A small yet popular club, full of every type of punk fan you could imagine. There were several distinct areas anyone could distinguish between once inside. At the back, a small stage, occupied by a more veteran punk band, was the centre of attention. A mini mosh pit had formed around the performers, who were almost on the same level as their audience. More casual fans were spread out across the room, chatting to friends or just enjoying the atmosphere. At the side of the room was the bar, where other visitors drank strictly non alcoholic beverages.
We made our way over to the bar, taking our seats upon the high stools. I ordered two sodas from the friendly bartender, scraping the change from a back pocket.
"So how come I haven't seen you around before?" I asked, taking a sip from my drink and wondering if I was looking at the girl beside me too intently.
She smiled. "I've only been here once before - I'd never been allowed." A look of disgust crossed over her delicate features. "But I finally convinced my parents to let me come, especially seeing as they have no alcohol rules."
I returned the smile. "I still remember the days when me and Mike would try and sneak in here when we were 14, trying to get a slot. It didn't happen until tonight, though."
"Really? You couldn't tell. You guys looked like pro's at it, anyway. What's the drummer's name?"
Feeling oddly happy inside at the compliment, I answered while unable to wipe the permanent smile off my face. "Al - he's a few years older though."
Conversation with Erica passed surprisingly well. The tension had eased up, and the situation was awkward no more. Mike was quietly chatting to a few new friends he'd made, though I often saw him shooting knowing glances in my direction. All too soon my sister had arrived, ready to pick us up for the night. Erica and I exchanged phone numbers, before bidding farewell to one another. I met my sister and Mike back outside and picked up my guitar from where it had remained in Al's van for safekeeping.
As I loaded my guitar into the back of my sister's car along with Mike's bass, I could see my friend not help but supress a smile.
"What?" I asked indignantly, closing the boot of the car.
Mike shook his head, giving a wide smile. "You and that girl hit it off pretty well... what's her name?"
"Erica," I replied, a little tensely. I sighed. "Come on, Mike, think about it this way... since when have girls from Rodeo ever taken interest in us? Give me a chance."
"Nah, Bill, I'm happy for you." He grinned. "They must make them a lot stupider up here. I mean, what girl in their right mind would date an idiot like you?"
Punching him on the arm and hopping into the backseat, I gave a content sigh. Great show, great new friend... who knew what could happen in the future?
"Hey Bill, have you got the keys?"
"What? Oh, yeah." I fumbled around in my pockets, gently placing the guitar I was holding down on the kerb beside me. Chucking the keys to Mike, I paitently waited for my friend to unlock Al's battered van.
It was the early months of 1989. 924 Gilman, as always, was full of young punk-rockers edging to see a great show. But best of all, me, Mike and Sweet Children were the show. We were the ones rocking out on stage, being the band people were cheering for an encore. Best of all, it was our first time - and we'd gotten a welcoming reception.
Still in a state of awe at what we has just accomplished, my reaction to the sound of a strange voice behind me was a little delayed.
"Erm... Billie, is it?"
I turned around to where the source of the unfamiliar sound was located. And it was there that I first laid eyes on her. She was of medium height and thin, dressed in tattered jeans and a slightly faded Sex Pistols shirt. Her soft brown eyes peered from behind a thin curtain of light brown hair. I could tell she was studying me much like I was to her.
Shaking my head slightly, I forced myself to focus. "Uh, yeah... yeah, it is."
She smiled. "I just wanted to tell you that the show was great." She held out her hand. "I'm Erica, by the way."
I immediately took her hand. I tried not to think about how perfectly it fitted into mine. "Nice to meet you. Oh - um, that's Mike." I gave a quick nod in the direction of where Mike was, behind the van packing in the equipment.
I turned back to face Erica. "So, would you like a drink? I mean, they don't have alcohol or anything, but I could buy you a soda, they're pretty good..." Figuring I was just blabbering on now, I chose to let my words fade into the warm air between us. What was I, ten?
Thankfully, Erica didn't seem to notice. "That'd be nice." She smiled, falling into step beside me as we headed back inside.
The Gilman. A small yet popular club, full of every type of punk fan you could imagine. There were several distinct areas anyone could distinguish between once inside. At the back, a small stage, occupied by a more veteran punk band, was the centre of attention. A mini mosh pit had formed around the performers, who were almost on the same level as their audience. More casual fans were spread out across the room, chatting to friends or just enjoying the atmosphere. At the side of the room was the bar, where other visitors drank strictly non alcoholic beverages.
We made our way over to the bar, taking our seats upon the high stools. I ordered two sodas from the friendly bartender, scraping the change from a back pocket.
"So how come I haven't seen you around before?" I asked, taking a sip from my drink and wondering if I was looking at the girl beside me too intently.
She smiled. "I've only been here once before - I'd never been allowed." A look of disgust crossed over her delicate features. "But I finally convinced my parents to let me come, especially seeing as they have no alcohol rules."
I returned the smile. "I still remember the days when me and Mike would try and sneak in here when we were 14, trying to get a slot. It didn't happen until tonight, though."
"Really? You couldn't tell. You guys looked like pro's at it, anyway. What's the drummer's name?"
Feeling oddly happy inside at the compliment, I answered while unable to wipe the permanent smile off my face. "Al - he's a few years older though."
Conversation with Erica passed surprisingly well. The tension had eased up, and the situation was awkward no more. Mike was quietly chatting to a few new friends he'd made, though I often saw him shooting knowing glances in my direction. All too soon my sister had arrived, ready to pick us up for the night. Erica and I exchanged phone numbers, before bidding farewell to one another. I met my sister and Mike back outside and picked up my guitar from where it had remained in Al's van for safekeeping.
As I loaded my guitar into the back of my sister's car along with Mike's bass, I could see my friend not help but supress a smile.
"What?" I asked indignantly, closing the boot of the car.
Mike shook his head, giving a wide smile. "You and that girl hit it off pretty well... what's her name?"
"Erica," I replied, a little tensely. I sighed. "Come on, Mike, think about it this way... since when have girls from Rodeo ever taken interest in us? Give me a chance."
"Nah, Bill, I'm happy for you." He grinned. "They must make them a lot stupider up here. I mean, what girl in their right mind would date an idiot like you?"
Punching him on the arm and hopping into the backseat, I gave a content sigh. Great show, great new friend... who knew what could happen in the future?