Diary of a Teenage Rock Star
Ring Ring... Hello?
Everyone sat dead still and watched me as I called Bill and told him about the Bitches, I mean David and Britney. I had picked the short straw (well, does it count as “picking the short straw” if everyone just chose you to do it?) so I had to be the one calling him. I nibbled my lip ring as I dialed, then cursed as I remembered my lip was cut. He picked up the phone after three rings, and I quickly switched on my secretary style voice, trying to sugar him up before I told him the news.
“Hey Bill! How’s the wife?” I asked, trying hard to be nice. Then I literally slapped my head for thinking of such a dumb question. In any other circumstance the others would have laughed at such, but they were too worried to notice and just looked at me tensely.
“You know I don’t have a wife…” he said suspiciously. Why the fuck did I ask him about his wife?! “… What have you done?” OK, best to just come out with it. Quickly. OK, now! Go!
“OK dude so we were practicing for the album and we were doing really good and then these bitches that hate us came in and they stole the contract and they flashed it around the school and then they ripped it up so we had a fight with them and now we’re all bashed up pretty good and my lip hurts and everyone’s going to mob us or something because they know were going to be famous and we don’t know what to do so what should we do?” I said, very, very quickly. Jeez, I sounded like the crazy frog on speed. At Disneyland. At Christmas! He took his time registering what I had said, and when he answered he sounded surprisingly calm.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Get your stuff together and wait where you are. Ill find you.” He hung up, leaving me feeling a little confused. I grabbed my bag and guitar and told the others about what Bill had said. Then we sat in the practice booth in silence, waiting for him to arrive.
“Hey Bill! How’s the wife?” I asked, trying hard to be nice. Then I literally slapped my head for thinking of such a dumb question. In any other circumstance the others would have laughed at such, but they were too worried to notice and just looked at me tensely.
“You know I don’t have a wife…” he said suspiciously. Why the fuck did I ask him about his wife?! “… What have you done?” OK, best to just come out with it. Quickly. OK, now! Go!
“OK dude so we were practicing for the album and we were doing really good and then these bitches that hate us came in and they stole the contract and they flashed it around the school and then they ripped it up so we had a fight with them and now we’re all bashed up pretty good and my lip hurts and everyone’s going to mob us or something because they know were going to be famous and we don’t know what to do so what should we do?” I said, very, very quickly. Jeez, I sounded like the crazy frog on speed. At Disneyland. At Christmas! He took his time registering what I had said, and when he answered he sounded surprisingly calm.
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Get your stuff together and wait where you are. Ill find you.” He hung up, leaving me feeling a little confused. I grabbed my bag and guitar and told the others about what Bill had said. Then we sat in the practice booth in silence, waiting for him to arrive.
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(Just a little fill in... It wouldn't have made sense to write the next chapter as this chapter. If you get my drift.)For every comment you write I'm going to click my fingers! .... Don't ask why!