Someone out There Loves You

“A, B, C, D… what letter comes after D? Is it: R, J, or E?”
“J.”
“What? Dude, you’re retarded.”
“No I’m not! It’s J. And Alpha Pig will say so.”
“Wow, no wonder you dropped out of college.”
“OOOOOOHHHH!!!”
This was Saturday morning at The Bungalo-- the name given to Monster and Levi’s humble apartment. We would all come over as a band-- all of us still in our pajamas-- and watch cartoons,. Some days do some writing. Normally, I would cook breakfast.
Food in The Bungalo normally consisted of Totino’s Pizza Rolls, Fritos, Lucky Charms, canned pineapple, and (of course) Monster drinks. I would not stand for this. So I came and cooked eggs and waffles for the band while they watched Super Why! and messed around.
“Hey, now, hey,” Levi defended as the band still “ohh, burn”-ed him out, “You know I wasn’t being serious. That was cold, Mark.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t being serious either.”
“E!” the chorus of unknown kids said from the TV.
“Dude,” Drew said, “Why the hell does it always take them so long to give the answer?”
“’Cause they’re waiting for the kids at home to figure it out,” Monster said.
“Agreed,” Levi nodded, “But it doesn’t take kids that long to figure it out, it’s easy.”
“Kids who watch this show are four, Levi,” I called from the kitchen.
“Nevertheless, it doesn’t take them 5 fucking minutes.”
“Says the one who immediately said J came after D,” Drew laughed. I heard a pillow being thrown.
“Settle down, kiddies,” I said, walking into the room. I balanced a pile of plates and plastic ware (Levi and Monster had had silverware once, but they broke it all, don’t ask me how) on one hand, and a platter of food on the other. “Sit up, food’s here.”
“Clay, you’re the youngest one here,” Monster said, reaching for a plate even before I set it down. I pretended to try and bite his hand to fend him off.
“What did you call me?” I said icily.
He gave a guilty grin. “Clayah of course, silly.”
“That’s what I thought.”
I hated being called Clay. Ever since I was little. My parents used to call me that, and I was fine with it. Until the first grade when I found out what clay was. Personally, I didn’t want to be nicknamed for soft wet dirt, thank you.
The band charged for food as I went back to grab everyone Monsters. I’d attempted to serve normal orange juice once, but no one drank it because I’m in a band with fools.
I fit in quite nicely.
I tossed everyone their drink from the kitchen doorway, then poured myself a cup of coffee. The Bungalo didn’t have a coffeepot before me. The guys could never afford one until I gave it to Levi for his birthday. It was sort of a selfish gift, really-- but I wasn’t going to cook everyone breakfast or even come to The Bungalo if I couldn’t get coffee out of it.
I went into the living room and plopped down in a bean bag chair (the guys idea of furniture) and watched Alpha Pig finish the alphabet.
“W, X, Y… what comes after Y? Is it: Z, H, or O?”
“They already covered H and O. Z for Zebra,” Levi said immediately.
“You been at the library reading picture books again?” Drew teased.
“What? Give me five more words off the top of your head that start with Z.”
“Zinc, Zany, Zealous, Zen, Zalambdodont.”
Levi narrowed his eyes. “You made that last one up.”
Drew casually took a sip of her drink. “Zalambdodont. Of or pertaining to a tribe-- Zalambdodonta-- of Insectivora in which the molar teeth have but one V-shaped ridge.”
The whole band stared at her.
“What?” she said.
“How is it I dropped out of college,” Levi said, “And you took the SAT in the eighth grade?”
Drew shrugged. Monster let out a laugh.
Now Levi glared at him. “Can it, Blake.” Another pillow thrown.
Mark sighed. “Dude, watch your cartoon.”
We all looked back at the screen. “You did it!” Alpha Pig cheered. “You made it to the end of the glitter path!”
“Now we can find Cinderella!” Super Why said.
I snorted. “Accomplishment of the day. Turn on Spiderman, I’m bored.”
“NO,” Levi and Monster shouted in unison. “WE HAVE TO FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED TO CINDERELLA--”
Mark grabbed the remote and changed the channel. “You guys are nineteen,” he said. “Stop watching PBS.”
“Rot in a sack, Demia,” Monster grumbled.
Mark rolled his eyes again. “Eat your waffles and watch Peter Parker.”
I grinned and took a sip of coffee, slouching deeper into my chair. Then I felt something against the ass of my Marvel comic boxer shorts. I reached under me and picked it up.
“OH MY GOD CONDOM.” I flung it across the room, and it landed by Drew‘s foot.
She freaked. “WHAT THE FUCK? Dude, who’s is this?” There was a pause.
“Levi’s,” four out of five said in unision. We looked at him.
He blushed. “Sorry.”
“Who doesn’t throw out a condom once it’s been used?” I said in disgust. Then grumbled, “Gross, these are my favorite boxers…”
“I forgot!” Levi defended. Then he grinned mischievously. “You just get so busy you forget these things, you know?” The condom was thrown across the room to land on his eggs.
Levi stared at it. “Well, at least it’s mango flavored.”
“EEEEEEEEWWWWW!!” we all shouted.
I love our band.

“The dark trying to attack the day, the hunter gone to seize the prey. There’s nothing left inside of you, but silver ghosts and honeydew.”
“I still think the lyric is really stupid,” Monster said, cutting off my singing.
“Okay, we’ve been over this,” Mark said.
“That’s what it was about,” Drew said. “My ex was totally wasted that night, and he barfed, but then when I dumped him a while later all he had eaten since was honeydew.”
“Then what’s with the silver ghosts thing?” Mark asked. “I never did get that.”
“He got mercury poisoning,” she said. “He never died but it was enough to make him sick. Silver ghosts. Ghosts, like traces.”
“But honeydew sounds weird,” I said. “There’s nothing left inside of you but silver ghosts and…”
“Fruit,” Levi laughed.
“Shut up,” Drew said.
“Can you think of anything else that night that would work?” I asked.
She crumpled her nose up, like she always did when she thought really hard. “Well, not right now.”
“We’ll get it later,” Levi waved off the topic. “Clayah, sing the chorus.” Monster adjusted his fingers on Betsy to start.
Betsy was what we always used when we wrote. We could never use electrics-- the guys’ neighbors would shoot us. Plus, Betsy was our good luck charm. She was Monster’s trusty old acoustic, and we had played her when we tried out for the mellow gig at the House of Blues. It may have been biased because Drew was Joey’s niece, but he loved us. And we were in.
Mark counted off and I cleared my throat.
“Take off your skin and show me how, you seem to work inside. The seeds of sin are sprouting now-- Wait, why don’t we say blooming instead of sprouting? It flows better. Plus all the S’s like that make all this nasty spit build up on the corners of my mouth.”
“So we saw,” Mark grinned. I gave him a shove.
“Fine with me,” Drew said. “’Cause that is nasty,” She smiled. “Go again.”
We never did get to because a knock came on the door. Mark jumped up to get it.
Yoda danced into the room, smiling like a kid in a candy store. “Guuuuuuess who I talked to this morning!” he said in a singsong voice.
“Who?”
“My buddy Brett!”
We all cheered. We had called Yoda first thing that morning after getting a yes from all our folks. We just needed to know what else Brett had said.
“And?” I pleaded.
“WE are ALL going on a little field trip to The Firm!” He put his hands on his hips, still smiling. “He’s meeting us down there at noon so we can SIGN SOME PAPERS!!”
The band looked at the clock.
“Pray tell, Master Yoda,” Monster said stiffly, “Since The Firm is a half hour away, why the hell are you here at five to noon?”
Yoda looked at his watch. Then his eyes bugged out. “Oh shit.”
All at once everyone ran to their shoes and went out the door, running down three flights of stairs (it was faster than the building‘s dinosaur-era elevator) to the parking garage. We jumped in the van and Yoda got into his Mazda, burning rubber as we zoomed out of the garage.
If you’ve ever try to tie a pair of Chucks while sitting next to your guitarist/best friend tying his Vans in a fast moving van, there will be head injuries.
Since we were speeding, we got there in half the time it would’ve taken. Which was amazing since traffic in The Bungalo’s neighborhood was insane. Mark, Drew, Levi, and I jumped out of the van before it had even fully stopped while Monster parked.
People in the lobby jumped back in fear as band and manager made a mad dash for the elevator. Drew slammed her hand on the button.
“Come on, COME ON,” I yelled, my head still spinning from knocking heads with Mark.
“Clayah, if I had magic powers over the elevator, it would be here by now.”
The doors dinged open. There were already seven people inside, and the six of us crammed in, getting some very strange looks from them.
We all did nervous dances the entire fifteen floor ride to Yoda’s office, made all the more aggravating since we had to stop a couple times for the other people to get off, and a few more for those who had to get on.
But finally, we made it. We ran right past Yoda’s secretary, Helen.
“PetePetePetePETE!” Helen yelled, jumping in front of all of us. “Chill out, chill out.” She guided us to the office door, putting her hand on the knob to guide us in. “Brett’s inside, and I don’t think you want to scare him by running in there, especially when you’re--”
Mark reached around her and pushed her hand down on the knob. Helen tumbled in, pushed by all of us.
Brett was sitting at Yoda’s desk, some papers in front of him. His attention snapped right to us when the door flew open, raising his eyebrows.
There was an awkward second of silence before Helen cleared her throat. “Rush And Ruin is here.”
“Thank you,” Brett said. Helen left, leaving the six of us standing uncomfortably.
“We’re sorry we’re late,” Yoda said. “Traffic.” I saw him cross his fingers behind his back.
“It’s fine,” Brett smiled. “And I can see you rushed.” He nodded toward us. “Nice outfits.”
The band looked down at ourselves; Mark stared dumbly at his “Your Mom So Wants This” tshirt and green boxers; Drew looked at her long pajama pants with guns firing off drawn on them and her bright yellow tank top; Levi blushed at the sight of his muscle shirt and pajama pants with the bunnies-holding-bloody-knives design; Monster’s jaw dropped at the sight of his Mikey Fuckin’ Way shirt and Bugs Bunny boxers; and I mentally punched myself for still being in Marvel comics boxers and a Misfits tshirt.
Rush And Ruin was standing in The Firm, staring at a Reprise Records rep, about to sign a paper ticket to the rest of our lives.
And we were in our pajamas.
“Kids,” Yoda said, clearly exhausted by us, “Just sit down.”
We spent the next twenty minutes reading the contract, initialing here, signing there, blahblahblah. Finally Brett scanned the papers, slid them into a manilla envelope, folded his hands on the desk and smiled at us.
“Welcome to Reprise Records, Rush And Ruin.”
Joygasm.