Status: In Progress
I'm in Kandyland So Don't Save Me
Two
My alarm sounded, waking me of my three-hour slumber. We had left the bar at closing time and Vanessa had gone back to her boyfriend’s apartment while I caught a cab to get back to mine. I was more than sure she had a hangover after how much she drank last night. I luckily had some sense to watch what I drank.
I turned the alarm off and dragged myself out of bed. After taking a quick shower, I brushed my comb through my long, dark brown tresses and applied a thin line of eyeliner around the rim of my grey eyes. After a touch of bronzer on my already tanned cheeks, I put on a white button-down blouse with a waist-high pencil skirt and black heels.
I opened up my bag and stuffed a lot of similar business clothes in it, occasionally adding a dress or two in case we did find a good bar in Albuquerque. After throwing a few hair and makeup products in as well, I uploaded the Brokencyde album to my iPod and then packed up everything I need for work in my laptop.
Just I finished, I heard the front door close. I walked out to find Vanessa in the kitchen, face in hands with a glass of ice-cold water in front of her.
“Rough morning?”
“You’d think I’d be used to this by now…” she grumbled as she tried her very hardest to swallow a gulp of the ice water.
I chuckled. “You never get used to hangovers. Anyway, let’s get our baggage downstairs and get a taxi. We need to leave as soon as we can.”
We got to the airport within the hour and were off in the sky not too long after that. Luckily for us, we didn’t have to fly internationally very often so our flights were quick and hassle-free.
I looked to the seat next to me to find an already passed out Vanessa. I wasn’t surprised considering how groggy she was this morning. But I was lucky to have her here with me. We had a handful of other photographers so I rarely got the opportunity to work with my best friend. I met her when I first started working at AP and we were inseparable ever since.
Just as I saw the Lady Gaga shirt she was wearing, I was reminded that I had a job to do. I pulled the folder back out of my bag along with my iPod and put in the headphones, expecting a high-pitched voice complaining about how his mommy and girlfriend hate him. Instead I was surprised with something completely different as a song called “Freaxxx” blared through my headphones.
I walk into the club looking kind of sexy now.
I see these shorties on the side, they started making out.
They pull their pants down, she takes her panties off.
And then they started getting freaky on the dance floor.
By the fourth line of the song, my mouth was hanging open. Not at the unique and completely undesirable combination of rapping and screaming, or the Lil-Jon-goes-screamo type of beat, but at the completely obscene lyrics. And the combination of the three just blew my mind away. Did people actually sit down and come up with this shit as “music?” I was all for the combination of genres, but this was like the vomit of all music.
After the first song, I turned my iPod off and took out my laptop. After connecting to the wireless internet on the plane, I searched their name in the Google searchbar. I went on their Myspace and stalked for a bit. It wasn’t surprising to find that they had a large scene crowd fan base. I was used to writing about scene bands by now, but this one was far different.
I went back to the Google search and scrolled until something really intriguing caught my eye. I clicked on the page and read through the description with a curious look on my face.
“What’s that?” a voice started, making me jump in my seat. I wasn’t expecting anyone to speak, especially considering how hard I was concentrating on absorbing this page.
“This band, Brokencyde, has a whole anti-Brokencyde crowd. They call themselves ‘Mothers Against Brokencyde’ and are making some pretty serious claims,” I replied to Vanessa, who had just woken up.
She looked over my shoulder and read the description as well, eyebrow raised in interest. “Hm…sounds like utter bullshit to me, but I guess you can ask the band yourself.”
I shrugged, unsure of what to believe. What I was sure of though was that the band members seemed like sleazy assholes and that Scott was completely right. I wanted to go back to All Time Low or Boys Like Girls. You really didn’t know what you had until it was gone.
I sighed and closed up my laptop. The plane was landing soon so buckled up and packed up my stuff. After exiting the plane and grabbing our bags, we were in a taxi and headed off towards our hotel.
“Connor, what’s the schedule?” I asked, scrolling through my calendar on my Blackberry. It was a hot and sunny day in New Mexico and I was practically dying in my clothes. Looking out the window, all I saw was shorts and tank tops and I almost wished that I could wear garb like that to work.
“The day is pretty much cleared up except for tonight. You’re having dinner with the band just to get acquainted. Nothing formal. But you do have to meet with a few representatives from AP just to tell you what they’re looking for. It’s mostly going to be directed toward the photography department, but you need to be there anyway.”
“Fine with me. There’s no way I wore a business casual outfit for nothing in this hellish weather,” I sighed, grabbing the itinerary out of Connor’s hand and fanning myself with it. This was going to be a long week.
I turned the alarm off and dragged myself out of bed. After taking a quick shower, I brushed my comb through my long, dark brown tresses and applied a thin line of eyeliner around the rim of my grey eyes. After a touch of bronzer on my already tanned cheeks, I put on a white button-down blouse with a waist-high pencil skirt and black heels.
I opened up my bag and stuffed a lot of similar business clothes in it, occasionally adding a dress or two in case we did find a good bar in Albuquerque. After throwing a few hair and makeup products in as well, I uploaded the Brokencyde album to my iPod and then packed up everything I need for work in my laptop.
Just I finished, I heard the front door close. I walked out to find Vanessa in the kitchen, face in hands with a glass of ice-cold water in front of her.
“Rough morning?”
“You’d think I’d be used to this by now…” she grumbled as she tried her very hardest to swallow a gulp of the ice water.
I chuckled. “You never get used to hangovers. Anyway, let’s get our baggage downstairs and get a taxi. We need to leave as soon as we can.”
We got to the airport within the hour and were off in the sky not too long after that. Luckily for us, we didn’t have to fly internationally very often so our flights were quick and hassle-free.
I looked to the seat next to me to find an already passed out Vanessa. I wasn’t surprised considering how groggy she was this morning. But I was lucky to have her here with me. We had a handful of other photographers so I rarely got the opportunity to work with my best friend. I met her when I first started working at AP and we were inseparable ever since.
Just as I saw the Lady Gaga shirt she was wearing, I was reminded that I had a job to do. I pulled the folder back out of my bag along with my iPod and put in the headphones, expecting a high-pitched voice complaining about how his mommy and girlfriend hate him. Instead I was surprised with something completely different as a song called “Freaxxx” blared through my headphones.
I walk into the club looking kind of sexy now.
I see these shorties on the side, they started making out.
They pull their pants down, she takes her panties off.
And then they started getting freaky on the dance floor.
By the fourth line of the song, my mouth was hanging open. Not at the unique and completely undesirable combination of rapping and screaming, or the Lil-Jon-goes-screamo type of beat, but at the completely obscene lyrics. And the combination of the three just blew my mind away. Did people actually sit down and come up with this shit as “music?” I was all for the combination of genres, but this was like the vomit of all music.
After the first song, I turned my iPod off and took out my laptop. After connecting to the wireless internet on the plane, I searched their name in the Google searchbar. I went on their Myspace and stalked for a bit. It wasn’t surprising to find that they had a large scene crowd fan base. I was used to writing about scene bands by now, but this one was far different.
I went back to the Google search and scrolled until something really intriguing caught my eye. I clicked on the page and read through the description with a curious look on my face.
“What’s that?” a voice started, making me jump in my seat. I wasn’t expecting anyone to speak, especially considering how hard I was concentrating on absorbing this page.
“This band, Brokencyde, has a whole anti-Brokencyde crowd. They call themselves ‘Mothers Against Brokencyde’ and are making some pretty serious claims,” I replied to Vanessa, who had just woken up.
She looked over my shoulder and read the description as well, eyebrow raised in interest. “Hm…sounds like utter bullshit to me, but I guess you can ask the band yourself.”
I shrugged, unsure of what to believe. What I was sure of though was that the band members seemed like sleazy assholes and that Scott was completely right. I wanted to go back to All Time Low or Boys Like Girls. You really didn’t know what you had until it was gone.
I sighed and closed up my laptop. The plane was landing soon so buckled up and packed up my stuff. After exiting the plane and grabbing our bags, we were in a taxi and headed off towards our hotel.
“Connor, what’s the schedule?” I asked, scrolling through my calendar on my Blackberry. It was a hot and sunny day in New Mexico and I was practically dying in my clothes. Looking out the window, all I saw was shorts and tank tops and I almost wished that I could wear garb like that to work.
“The day is pretty much cleared up except for tonight. You’re having dinner with the band just to get acquainted. Nothing formal. But you do have to meet with a few representatives from AP just to tell you what they’re looking for. It’s mostly going to be directed toward the photography department, but you need to be there anyway.”
“Fine with me. There’s no way I wore a business casual outfit for nothing in this hellish weather,” I sighed, grabbing the itinerary out of Connor’s hand and fanning myself with it. This was going to be a long week.