Are You a Lover or a Fighter?
Perhaps Mikey Should've Been Lead Singer...
"It must be hard knowing you're not good enough to be 'Lead Guitarist'... How do you feel about that?" I asked with a smirk, "For the interview of course."
Once again, his faced turned red and he exhaled heavilly through his nose, "Fuck you. I actually prefer playing rhythm. The riffs are a hell of a lot more interesting," he answered honestly.
"Keep telling yourself that," I said giving him a pat on the head. I gave a faux sigh, "Not good enough for lead guitar... Not tall enough for basketball."
"Fuck off, loser."
"Nice comeback, asshole."
"Why dont you go------"
"Can you both just shut the fuck up?!" Libby yelled, "Jesus.. You're like fucking 4th graders back there. I'm sorry Celest," she said noticing my shocked expression, "but seriously.. its ridiculous."
"She's right," Gerard said directing the comment to Frank.
"He started it," I muttered.
"No I did not!"
"Yeah, you did!"
"Didn't!"
"You did!"
"No I--"
"Hello!?!" Libby yelled again.
"Fine," Frank glared, "but I didn't..." he said under his breath.
"Oh..But you did," I muttered.
"Next person to comment is grounded. If you insist on acting like 4th graders... I'll treat you like you are." We both simultaneously muttered under out breaths, "HEY!" Libby yelled. "And another thing Celeste... Sorry to quote blow your spot unquote, but you're obsessed with rhythm guitarists for theexact reason he gave.. You like their riffs better."
My mouth hung open, shocked Libby had said that; Frank smirked, "And you used to wear a colored contact in one eye," Gerard added to Frank.
Now I smirked while Frank glared at Gerard.
"Why can't we be friends.." Mikey sang under his breath as we pulled up in the back of the concert hall.
Once again, his faced turned red and he exhaled heavilly through his nose, "Fuck you. I actually prefer playing rhythm. The riffs are a hell of a lot more interesting," he answered honestly.
"Keep telling yourself that," I said giving him a pat on the head. I gave a faux sigh, "Not good enough for lead guitar... Not tall enough for basketball."
"Fuck off, loser."
"Nice comeback, asshole."
"Why dont you go------"
"Can you both just shut the fuck up?!" Libby yelled, "Jesus.. You're like fucking 4th graders back there. I'm sorry Celest," she said noticing my shocked expression, "but seriously.. its ridiculous."
"She's right," Gerard said directing the comment to Frank.
"He started it," I muttered.
"No I did not!"
"Yeah, you did!"
"Didn't!"
"You did!"
"No I--"
"Hello!?!" Libby yelled again.
"Fine," Frank glared, "but I didn't..." he said under his breath.
"Oh..But you did," I muttered.
"Next person to comment is grounded. If you insist on acting like 4th graders... I'll treat you like you are." We both simultaneously muttered under out breaths, "HEY!" Libby yelled. "And another thing Celeste... Sorry to quote blow your spot unquote, but you're obsessed with rhythm guitarists for theexact reason he gave.. You like their riffs better."
My mouth hung open, shocked Libby had said that; Frank smirked, "And you used to wear a colored contact in one eye," Gerard added to Frank.
Now I smirked while Frank glared at Gerard.
"Why can't we be friends.." Mikey sang under his breath as we pulled up in the back of the concert hall.